


Wherefore Art Thou

by ChasingVulpixels



Category: Life Is Strange (Video Game)
Genre: F/F, Homophobic Language, Implied/Referenced Domestic Violence, and I don't agree with it like at all, based on a book, but it's a cool-ish story if you take away everything else, called eleanor and park, don't support the author, i.e. thinly veiled racism, read my non-problematic version instead :), yes I'm aware that it's problematic, you've probably heard of it
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-11
Updated: 2018-06-11
Packaged: 2019-01-16 03:30:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 26,321
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12334623
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChasingVulpixels/pseuds/ChasingVulpixels
Summary: Max Caulfield and Chloe Price tolerate each other. They sit next to each other for a total of an hour each day: one bus ride to hell, and one back. High school sucks, even in 1986, especially when you have to share your seat with the weird girl.Based on the novel Eleanor & Park (but less problematic. I see you, Rowell).





	1. Chapter 1

**CHLOE**  
[XTC](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=a9d8ZFhdIaI) was no good for drowning out the morons at the back of the bus. Chloe pressed her headphones to her ears. Tomorrow she was going to bring Black Flag.   
She had been staring out of the Plexiglas window for the past twenty minutes, the scenery drifting in and out of focus as she contemplated the possibility of driving her mom’s Impala.  
Pros:  
1\. XTC could be listened to in peace.  
Cons:  
1\. She couldn’t drive.  
_Goddammit. Three more months until sweet, sweet permit-related salvation._

 __ ‘That doesn’t exist,’ somebody shouted behind her.  
‘It so fucking does,’ Nathan shouted back.  
‘Drunken-monkey style, man, it’s a real fucking thing. You can kill somebody with it …’  
‘You’re full of shit.’  
‘ _You’re_ full of shit,’ Nathan said. ‘Chloe! Hey, Chloe.’  
       Chloe heard him, but didn’t answer. She slid down in her seat, hoping that he would leave her alone if she ignored him for long enough. She looked down, leg bouncing nervously, and prayed that he’d get distracted by another poor bastard before he got around to Chloe…  
…Which, obviously, was not going to happen. She felt a ball of paper hit her in the back of the head and sighed inwardly.  
“Those were my Human Growth and Development Notes, dicklick.” Victoria said.  
‘I’m sorry, baby,’ said Nathan. ‘I’ll teach you all about human growth and development. What do you need to know?’  
‘Teach her drunken-monkey style,’ somebody snickered.  
‘CHLOE!’ Nathan shouted. Chloe pulled her headphones down, rolling her eyes as she turned to the back of the bus. _Choke, Nathan._  
He was slouched in the back seat, as the popular kids so often were, arm draped around his girlfriend Victoria— snooty as ever, short blonde hair standing like a puffy halo around her head. Victoria was about as far from an angel as you could get. Once, back in the sixth grade, some kid had accidentally spilled white paint on her new cardigan. They had ended up ‘accidentally’ taking a spill of their own, down a small flight of stairs.  
       Chloe tossed Victoria her scrunched up homework. She caught it with a slight smile.  
‘Thanks.’  
‘Chloe, tell Steve about drunken-monkey style. It exists right?’  
‘Uh… yeah. I think I’ve heard of it.’ Chloe said, scratching the back of her head. She hoped they couldn’t tell she was bluffing.  
‘What does _Price_ know about karate?’ Said Steve. _Oh,_ Chloe thought _, they’re talking about karate. Thank Jesus.  
_ ‘Chloe _’s badass, man_ —’ He was interrupted as Steve hit him with a rolled up sports magazine. It made a satisfying _thwack_ against the back of his head.  
‘What the fuck, Steve?’ Nathan looked for something to throw at him, but couldn’t find anything, so chose to hit him with his hand instead. Chloe slipped her headphones back on, sliding back down her seat and cranking up the volume. It was pointless— it was at its highest, and she could still hear Nathan and Steve arguing, four seats behind her.  
  
Chloe noticed the new girl at the same time as everyone else. She cringed as she watched each person with a space beside them slide into the aisle seat, looking down guiltily as she passed them. Chloe willed her to stop walking before she reached King Nathan and his court. _God,_ thought Chloe, _Turn around._ She didn’t. She went right up to the back, right where the popular kids were (where they _always_ are. Like, seriously, how could she be that dumb?) and then realised that there was nowhere else to go. Chloe tried not to look at her, but she couldn’t help herself. It was sort of a train-wreck/eclipse situation. She seemed exactly like the type of person this would happen to: wild, brown hair that looked like a self-inflicted disaster (not that Chloe could really say anything about fashionable haircuts, of course), the strangest ensemble of clothing she had ever seen… This girl was even wearing a fucking _safety pin_ as a hairclip, and had a bizarre collection of bracelets and ribbons and strings tied around her wrists that contributed to her… image. Pale, with watery blue eyes seemingly always on the edge of tears. She looked like a depressed ghost. Like a mess. Like something that wouldn’t survive in the wild.  
The girl looked over her shoulder, waiting for someone to move, to let her sit down, but nobody did. Of course they didn’t. Chloe knew they wouldn’t from the moment the girl had stepped onto this bus. Victoria snickered; she lived for this stuff. A bunch more kids piled on, knocking into her, pushing past her as she just stood in the aisle like an idiot. That was the thing— everyone already a had a seat. And those (like Chloe) who were lucky/scary enough to have a double seat all to themselves weren’t about to just _give it up_ for the new kid. _Especially_ not someone like her. The bus driver was getting antsy, glaring at her reflection in his mirror.  
‘Hey! You.’ He shouted, moustache twitching. This was painful to watch. ‘Sit down.’ Chloe glanced behind her momentarily. Someone had to give in. There was an empty seat behind her, next to Courtney Wagner, but Chloe knew what was about to happen. As the girl’s eyes flickered to the empty seat, Victoria spoke up.  
‘Hey, _Casper,_ ’ Victoria waved a hand in front of the girl’s face. Nathan started laughing, his friends joining in a few seconds later. ‘That’s Taylor’s seat. You can’t sit there.’  
‘I have to sit somewhere.’ she replied weakly.  
‘Not my problem.’  
The bus lurched forward, the driver grumbling. Chloe could see the panic in the other girl’s face. She looked (even more than usual) like she might start to cry. When her chin started wobbling, before Chloe had even considered the _serious_ social consequences of her actions she was scooting in to the window, already regretting her decision. _It was the tears, man. Price doesn’t do tears._  
‘Sit down.’ she said flatly. The words came out angrier than she had expected. The girl just stared back blankly, bring to figure out if she was another one of Victoria’s cronies. ‘Jesus-fuck.’ Chloe shook her head, more at her own stupidity than the anyone else’s. ‘Just _sit down.’_  
She did.

MAX  
Max dragged her feet as she walked to the bus. Her first day had been shitty. Even shittier than she had expected, which was saying something. Somehow, being the new kid just didn’t get any easier. And now, to top it all of, she had to get back on Satan’s own Bus From Hell. That was unless she wanted to walk home, which would be an option if she knew the general direction of her house. _Shit._ She sighed, briefly considering calling her mom before remembering that the new house didn’t have a phone. And her mom didn’t have a car. And that would mean riding in the back of Jerry’s pickup truck. ‘I’ll be fine,’ she had said as she walked out the door that very morning. Ha. Giant, dramatic _Ha._  
She sighed, climbing onto the metal steps and praying that the dumb punk kid from before was already in her seat. Their seat? Ugh. Max cringed as she imagined the awkward sliding-past process that would have to happen if she wasn’t. She couldn’t tell if she was one of them, or just really dumb (but not _dumb_ dumb, she was in two of Max’s honors classes). Max bet that really ruined her punk rock image. She just couldn’t figure her out— why she’d give up her golden double seat, why she’d give it up for _her._ Why she seemed weirdly untouchable in terms of social status, despite the whole _blue hair_ thing. The blonde chick in the ugly acid-washed jacket (Victoria?) hadn’t said anything once she sat down.  When she reached her seat, the girl from before was already there. So were Victoria and her own personal cheer squad, unfortunately. Max could almost see the horns poking out from beneath her blonde hair. The punk girl was staring out of the window, ignoring her so hard that it was almost worse than just _noticing_ her. Max was a weird mixture of glad and insulted, but then remembered that she couldn’t really be mad because this kid had also basically saved her. It sucked. She wished that she hadn’t, because now she was sort of indebted to this weird, stupid, kinda scary girl with no sense of self-preservation. When she sat down, the girl frowned at her. All icy blue eyes and blue hair, like something out of a music video. She used to like those. The _old_ house had had a TV, where she could watch stuff like that. Now, she had a TV, but if the remote wasn’t in Jeff’s hand, it was off. Max frowned right back, quietly stewing, picking her nails.

  **CHLOE**  
She didn’t talk to her on the way home. Chloe had spent all day thinking about how to get away from the new girl, and had come to the conclusion that she’d _have_ to move seats. But how? And to where? She couldn’t just force herself on somebody else— then that person would sit in their once-speacious-now-squished-up window seat thinking the exact same thing as she was, and the cycle would continue. Besides, even the act of attempting to switch places would catch Victoria’s attention, which was something she _really_ wanted to avoid.She sighed. Sometimes she wished she wasn’t so goddamn impulsive. This was going to become a _thing_ now, and there was really no way she could fix it, and it was all because of some weird kid and her stupid, wobbling chin and teary-ghost eyes.  
Switch seats… _how?  
_ She could probably sit with the freshmen at the front. But that was a spectacular show of weakness. And she also couldn’t bear the thought of leaving this poor, defenceless (if irritating) girl at the back _alone._ That was like… like leaving a baby out in the woods for the wolves to snatch away. Just cruel.   
She hated herself for thinking like this. If her mom knew, she’d smack her on the back of her head. ‘Is that any way to treat a girl who’s down on her luck?’ she’d say as she tutted. But what she didn’t really get (her mom, that is) was that high school sucks. Everyone seems to misremember high school, because Chloe didn’t have any luck/status to spare for this weird hipster girl. She was weird— like so, so weird. When she’d sat down, Chloe saw blood on her face. Not _fight_ blood, but like she’d had a nosebleed and just… left it there. Anyway, not everyone was lucky as Victoria and Nathan. They just like to think they were. But for the rest of the losers, it sucked, and nobody wanted to admit it. _Best years of your life my ass,_ she thought, _I’m one year away from escaping this hellhole (mostly) unscathed._ In a twisted way, she was glad people like that girl existed. Because if it wasn’t her, then it was someone else, and if it wasn’t _them,_ it was Chloe.  
To reiterate, high school sucked. She couldn’t even do one nice thing without hating herself for it. It wasn’t even _nice,_ she swore at her, and then pretended she didn’t exist for an entire half hour, and then all through honors english and chemistry because _of course_ they’d share classes. Chloe’s entire life was like some huge cosmic joke. What else could she have expected, really? The girl she had compared to a ghost, now aptly nicknamed by Blackwell’s finest as _Casper_ , to _not_ come back and haunt her?  
‘Maxine…’ Mr Stessman had said, ‘It’s a warrior’s name, you know. Powerful.’  
A few of the class had laughed at that, but Maxine stared right past them from her desk.  
‘It’s Max actually.’  
Chloe remembered thinking that it suited her, then remembered thinking that she wasn’t supposed to care. When she had arrived in science, Mr Branson hadn’t made as much of a fuss. She sat a few rows ahead of Chloe, and as far as she could tell, Max had spent the entire class drawing hundreds of tiny spirals on the back of her hand in red biro. Chloe had spent the entire class thinking of ways to escape her, which she couldn’t, so she turned the volume of her headphones all the way up and went right back to pretending that the girl didn’t exist. Thank God she didn’t try to talk to her _._


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Welcome back! In this exciting chapter, Max and Chloe encounter... more bus rides. This is a slow burn. Have patience, young one. It's shorter because it's important that tomorrow's two perspectives are grouped together.

****MAX  
Max got home that afternoon before the rest of the kids, which was definitely a good thing. She wasn’t exactly ready to see them again after her big return last night. When she’d arrived home, she expected _some_ kind of welcome— but her siblings acted like they didn’t even recognise her. _Half-siblings,_ she reminded herself. She’d come in the door, expecting balloons and song and hugging… at least a hug. But Christopher just glanced at her, and Sophie… Sophie was sitting on Jeff’s lap. Which, on a regular day, would have made Max throw up— but she’d promised to behave for her mom. Only Mouse ran up to her, hugging her legs. She picked him up gratefully, but he was five now and heavier than she remembered. When she looked at his face, she realised that a year was a long time for a baby. He wasn’t so squishy anymore. He wasn’t so smiley either.  
“Look, dad, Max is back!” He shouted excitedly. Jeff pretended not to hear. Max put him down, and he went bounding over to his dad like a big, sloppy puppy, before clambering onto his lap beside Sophie. Jeff only stared at the TV. Max wanted to punch him.  
She wasn’t supposed to play favourites, but Mouse was always the closest to her. Maybe it was something to do with the fact that they shared their mother’s blue eyes, instead of Jeff’s dark brown eyes that Sophie and Christopher had both inherited. Mouse stared up at his (unresponsive) father expectantly, and Max felt a fizzling anger in her stomach. She wouldn’t act on it, but she could enjoy the mental image of her stepfather getting hit with a freight train. _Calm down,_ she thought, _remember the promise to mom._ Good behaviour— and by that, her mom had meant ‘not upsetting Jerry in any way’— was a primary condition of returning back to the Caulfield household. Or, the Douglas household (ugh) now that her mom had remarried. Max stubbornly remained a Caulfield, despite her mom’s protesting, even though her real dad wasn’t much better, only visiting on the birthdays he remembered and sending five dollars allowance a month, no note, no card. She hadn’t heard from him since she moved out. Got kicked out. Whatever. She was back now, the prodigal daughter had returned, and by the looks of things, nobody cared. And all that only added to the pile of _suck_ that was her life right now.  
       She kicked the door shut behind her, slipping offher backpack. Her mom was standing in the kitchen, brown hair pulled into a stub of a ponytail, frowning.  
“Damn microwave.” She cursed, jabbing the buttons angrily. It was weird to see her there, standing in her kitchen (their kitchen?) making dinner again. Like normal… except for the house. The dingy house that didn’t even have a bathroom door and only had that scratchy kind of industrial carpet on the floor. The dingy house that was now her home. Unfortunately. She briefly wondered what Jeff had done with all of the drawings they did, all of their board games and photographs and other homey stuff, like their fridge magnet collection. The trash, probably. Life wasn’t _great_ pre-Jeff, but it was a hell of a lot better than this. She particularly missed the one that said _Florida welcomes you!_ on a sun wearing a cowboy hat.  
Max tried to move wordlessly past her mom, slipping by without even breathing, but the house was small. There wasn’t any way to avoid the coming conversation.  
“How was school?”  
“Fine.”  
“Did you have a good first day?”  
“Yeah, mom. You worry too much.”  
“Do you have a lot of catching up to do?”  
“I don’t think so.”  
“Good.” her mom replied, giving up on the microwave. She turned around, and Max was struck for the thousandth time by her mother’s beauty. She was old now, or at least, at thirty-seven, she looked it. All used up, as her mother would say when she looked in the mirror, tugging and pulling at wrinkles that weren’t there before kid number three. Although she’d never believe it, Max secretly thought that those lines were the most beautiful thing about her mother. She heard her father’s words then: _A little time on the rocks never hurt anybody. It builds character_. He had said that when he lost his job. Max agreed, in a weird sort of way, but this was more than ‘a little’ time. _How much longer, mom?_ She was hoping this house was temporary. Hell, she was still hoping that _Jeff_ was temporary.  
Max slunk into the bedroom (note: _the_ bedroom, not _her_ bedroom— they shared), closing the door behind her. She swung her backpack onto her bed— top bunk, tiny, hers— and then climbed up after it, scratching behind the ears of the scraggly cat that had fallen asleep there. Sophie had told her he was called Muffin. Max hated that name.  
‘Knock, knock.’ Said her mother, voice lilting. For a second, she was back in her old room, in her old bed, with her old mom. Then she blinked.  
‘Come in,’ she called. Her mom pulled out a black trash bag from behind her back, smiling.  
‘I have some of your things from the old house.’ She said, offering the bag to Max. Max’s eyes lit up— she didn’t expect any of her stuff to have made it here. Her mom must have gone into her room when she left, picking up whatever remained undamaged and/or looked important before Jeff had realised. Max opened the bag and immediately spotted her polaroid camera. Her face split into a grin.  
‘Thanks, mom.’  
‘You’re welcome, honey.’  
Inside the bag were a few books that Max liked— some of her favourites hadn’t made the cut, her mom having scooped up whatever was closest, but she didn’t mind. She had _stuff._ Stuff that was hers, and hers alone. Even the sight of her camera made her heart do little flips inside her chest. And her _walkman._ No batteries, but where there’s a will, there’s a way, right? She felt hopeful then, for the first time since she had arrived in Arcadia Bay. Carefully, she tucked the bag into the corner of her bed, and then covered it with her sheets. _Safe from sticky hands._  
Max sighed as she lay down, her nose about a foot away from the ceiling and three inches from Muffin’s butt.  


****CHLOE  
Mr Stessman was making them memorise a poem. They could choose anything, any poem they wanted. Too bad that Chloe wasn’t all that crazy about poetry. She sighed, digging through her bag for something to ease the boredom of Stessman’s class but coming up empty handed. She began to doodle on her workbook instead, mind wandering back to the weird girl. Their bus ride this morning had been… terrible, to put it bluntly. She’d decided the night before that she was going to switch seats, consequences be damned, _anarchy!_ and all that, and then arrived and just sat _right_ back where she was yesterday. _So much for punk rock. You’re a sham, Price._ The girl, a.k.a. Casper a.k.a. Maxine, had left a good six inches between them, thankfully. The air around them was weirdly charged, a product of their attempts to ignore each other a little too hard again. _Woe is me._  
A hand came down onto Chloe’s desk. She jumped, pencil frozen mid-butterfly wing, and sat up straight.  
‘… So you’re going to memorise a poem. Isn’t that right, Miss Price?’ Stessman said, smiling down at Chloe with that special smug-teacher face reserved for when you’re caught doing something you shouldn’t be. Chloe nodded, placing the pencil on the table. He seemed satisfied, and went off to terrorise another kid. Stessman walked down the row, his shoes squeaking slightly as he went. Although he stopped in front of Max’s desk, she continued to stare out of the window.  
‘Perhaps _A Dream Deffered_ for you, Maxine?’  
‘Max.’ She corrects him quietly, still gazing out of the window. To Chloe, it looked like she was staring directly at the fucking sun. _Weirdo._ Mr Stessman seemed to have given up, because he was leaning on the back of Jessica Wu’s chair now, who was staring forward intensely. Chloe guessed she had been drawing, too.  
‘Brains love poems. Poems are sticky stuff,’ he continued, pacing the rows, ‘and this may very well be the only thing that you remember from this class.’ _This is torture,_ Chloe thought to herself. She hated when he worked the room like this. The secondhand embarrassment was enough to make her want to curl up and never leave her house again. _  
_ ‘You may forget that To Be or Not To Be is Hamlet— not Macbeth. You may forget that Romeo was a Montague, not a Capulet. But this poem? It will stick in your mind _forever._ My advice: Choose a romantic one. You’ll get the most use out of it.’  
Chloe felt her eyes roll back into her head so far that she could see her own brain, and the cobwebs collecting there from this class. _Romantic poems. Psh._ She was choosing a poem that rhymed, and that was short. Easy.  
‘And one more thing,’ he said, catching Chloe’s eye roll and raising a single brow, ‘you’ll be reading these to the rest of us on Monday.’ The class groaned collectively. ‘Class dismissed.’ And then the bell rang. Right on cue.

 ****MAX  
‘Watch it, bozo.’  
Victoria shoved past Max and climbed onto the bus ahead of her. Everyone in gym class was already calling her Casper, but it seemed that Victoria had moved on to better and brighter nicknames. _Such creative genius._  
It made sense that Victoria was in Max’s gym class. The universe wanted to torture her as much as possible, or so it seemed. Wasn’t he fact that they were forced to wear offensively red, polyester jumpsuits enough? They exposed _not only_ her pale, freckly legs (which she hated even more than the rest of her body) but also clung to her stick thin straight-up-and-down frame that had prompted several classmates to shout ‘ _oh no! There’s a boy in the girls’ locker room!’_ before glancing back at Victoria for her approval _._ Everyone found it hilarious after she did, of course. In her last school, she had thought that the _shorts_ were bad. Oh what she wouldn’t give to wear those ugly, unflattering pieces of garbage now. She’d never complain again.  
After pushing past her, Victoria took her time ambling up to the back of the bus, totally carefree. When Max reached her seat, she realised with dismay that the punk rock girl was not there yet. She’d have to stand up to let her in, and that was going to be awkward as heck. Who was she kidding— it was _always_ awkward as heck. Every time they hit a pothole she practically fell into the girl’s lap. Maybe someone would drop out, die, become a social recluse, and she’d be able to snap up their seat before their bench-mate could say no. Maybe she’d even get an empty bench to herself. _Now that,_ thought Max, _is one genie wish down._ The other two were maybe world peace and no more Jeff, but she was undecided.  
At least the girl didn’t try to talk to her. Or look at her. Max wouldn’t really know, she’d never looked either. She did sometimes stare at her shoes, though. They were pretty cool shoes. Max was kind of jealous, and kind of scared. You could totally crush someone’s skull with those boots. If Max was feeling particularly brave, she’d look at what the girl was reading. Always a comic book. Max never brought anything of her own to read, though. Letting Victoria catch her with her head down was like painting a target on her back— so she settled for the occasional peek at whatever the girl had brought and tried not to get mad when she turned the page too quickly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is an AU, so Max's home life is... wildly different from that of her canon one. Presumably. Also everyone has siblings. Let it happen. They're plot devices. 
> 
> Catch ya on the like, flippity flop, a.k.a. the next chapter of this totally tubular story, man.  
> -Vulpixels ;)


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chloe and Max make some... progress?

**MAX**  
Dinner was at 4:30. They sat hunched around the table, picking at their gloopy mac and cheese in silence. Max didn’t have the heart to tell her mom that it was disgusting, so she swallowed each bite with a shudder and tried to ignore the fact that she could feel the grease clinging to her insides.   
‘Jeff will be home soon,’ said her mom, swooping in to clear the plates before they had even finished, ‘why don’t you kids go play in the yard?’ Max stared pointedly at her mom, but she either didn’t notice, or didn’t care.  
‘But mom,’ whined Sophie, ‘it’s _cold._ ’  
‘You know Jeff likes his peace and quiet when he comes home from work.’  
‘ _Mom,_ ’  
‘Enough! You will go outside, and play with your brothers. If you’re good, Max will even push you on the swing.’  
  
Max didn’t push Sophie on the swing. Even after she asked three times. Maybe it was mean, but part of her still wanted to punish Sophie for sitting on Jeff’s lap. She would never have done that before. They used to sit on Max’s bed (they all had their own beds then), cursing him a thousand times over. Trying to block out the sound of their mom crying. Or her creaking bedsprings. Both were awful.  
‘I hate him.’ Max would say, blue eyes steely in the dark.  
‘I hate him so much I hope he dies.’ Sophie would reply.  
‘I hope he gets hit by a truck.’  
‘Yeah,’ Sophie would agree, clenching her hands into tiny fists, ‘ a garbage truck. And all the garbage falls all over his dead body.’  
‘And then a bus will run him over.’  
‘I hope I’m on it.’  
Max blinked as Sophie plopped down beside her on the concrete steps.  
‘Do you call him Dad now, too?’ Max asked, looking straight ahead into the street.  
‘He is our dad now,’ said Sophie.  
       Max stood up, leaning on the wall instead. What little yard they had was at the front of the bungalow, surrounded by a low chain-link fence and a rusty gate. Jeff’s Rottweiler, Susan, was tied up at the end of the path, and she awoke Max every morning with her furious barking. Max pitied the mailman. Apparently, Susan was named after Jeff’s first ex wife. Max pitied her, too.  
  
‘What was it like?’ asked Christopher from her feet. He was methodically lining up his cars in the dirt. Max wondered it, at twelve, if he was ever going to grow out of playing pretend.  
‘What was what like?’  
‘Staying with those other people.’ Christopher stopped playing, looking up at her with big brown eyes.  
Max slid down the wall to sit beside him, staring at the big setting sun just above the tops of the houses.  
‘It was okay.’ she answered. It was terrible. Lonely. Better than here.  
‘Were there other kids?’  
‘Yeah,’ said Max, ‘Three.’  
‘Did you get your own room?’  
‘Sort of.’ Max said. She wasn’t lying. She didn’t have to share the Hickman’s living room with anyone else.  
‘Were they nice?’  
‘Yeah. Yeah… they were nice. Not as nice as you.’ she said, smiling mainly for Christopher’s benefit.  
  
They had started off nice. They gave her warm milk for a week straight before bedtime, Mrs Hickman made up the couch with her best linens. Then it had been two weeks, then three weeks, then four…  
Her mom used to call every week or so, until the calls stopped. It turns out that the phone had been disconnected, that Jeff hadn’t paid the bills. Max didn’t know that for a while, though.  
She pretended she couldn’t hear them upstairs, talking in hushed voices, Mr Hickman pacing the floor. But the walls were thin.  
‘It’s too much, Sarah.’  
‘It’s not her fault. _’  
_ ‘I never _said_ it was her fault, just that we didn’t sign up for this!’  
‘She’s no trouble.’  
‘She’s not ours.’  
After that, Max tried to make herself invisible. She never turned on the TV, or asked to use the phone. She woke up at dawn and tidied away her bed before anyone was awake. She slipped out of the door before anyone had a chance to offer her breakfast.  
‘We thought you were gone,’ said Christopher. He had gone back to playing with his cars, his head tilted down so that his brown hair fell over his eyes. He looked like someone who was trying not to cry.  
‘O, ye of little faith,’ Max said, ruffling his hair.  
      Max saw the girl across the road at the same time as Susan. A girl with familiar, skull-crushing boots. A girl with bright blue hair. Susan started to growl, her black eyes following her across the road. _Fuck._  
‘Susan,’ Max warned, voice low. She prayed to God that she wouldn’t bark. It worked. Sort of. Susan began to howl instead.  


****CHLOE  
Chloe almost jumped out of her skin. _That fucking dog again._ It sounded like some ungodly progeny of a foghorn and a bear, and it scared her every time. Even when it didn’t bark, she found herself wincing in anticipation every time she passed that house. Honestly, she would find it unsettling even if the Rottweiler wasn’t there. Everyone who had lived in Arcadia Bay long enough knew that that house belonged to Jeff Douglas. And she _really_ didn’t want to cross Jeff Douglas. Her mom said that he was a lot more approachable now that he had a wife and some kids of his own. Joyce was a good Christian woman— second chances were kind of her thing. Her dad though, he always had something to say about Jeff.  
       ‘Susan!’ A high pitched shriek came from across the street, and Chloe looked over to see a small girl, no older than ten, tugging on the dog’s chain. _Susan?_ She was about to turn away, when she locked eyes with another girl, leaning against the wall of her house. _Oh shit. Not you. Anyone but you._ Chloe really didn’t know what to do. What was normal in this situation? A smile? A wave? How about _Hi, I spend 70% of my day trying to ignore you but I guess I can’t avoid that now, let’s forget this ever happened_? Before she even had time to speak (or not speak, she hadn’t decided), Max was gone, face bright red. The door had slammed shut at least 6 yards away, but it stung like she had slammed it right in Chloe’s face. _Well, fuck you too, Maxine._  
       Chloe kicked a rock the rest of the way home. When that went clattering down the storm drain, she resorted to scuffing her boots on the pavement every so often. She wanted to say that her bad mood wasn’t because of Maxine, but it kind of was. She was maybe more bothered about the fact that she was bothered about it. She wasn’t supposed to care. Especially not about Maxine, who was _way_ down on the _Things Chloe Price cares About_ list _. Right?  
  
_ Jennifer was perched on the stairs, painting her nails, her tongue peeking out of her mouth as she concentrated. She was halfway through her final pinky nail when Chloe stormed in, slamming the door and shoving past her.  
‘Nice going, jerkwad.’ Jennifer sneered, trying to clean up the mess she had made on her nail.  
‘Fuck off.’  
‘Chloe Elizabeth Price! I will not tolerate that kind of language in m—’  
Chloe slammed the door to her bedroom.  
  
That Maxine chick _infuriated_ her. That was it. She was going to change seats tomorrow.  


**MAX**  
She had kind of accepted her fate when she climbed onto the bus that morning. There was a moment of hesitation where Max wished that the floor would just open up and drag her down to hell as she waited for the blue-haired girl to move. Or just, you know, say something. But she just slid to the window. Just like that. Never even looking up from the floor.  
 _Yes,_ Max thought, secretly pleased as she watched the girl open the new volume of X-Men, _she brought that one we didn’t— she didn’t— finish reading last time._ She didn’t get some of it. Most of it. But the art was awesome, and the characters were kind of cool even if it did take her three days to figure out that a few of them were the same person.  
She was careful to leave a few inches of space between them, careful not to breathe down the girl’s neck as she read over her shoulder. If she noticed, it was game over. Max would never find out what happened to Storm.

  
**CHLOE**  
Maxine was reading Chloe’s comic books.  
  
At first, Chloe thought she was imagining it. Every time she stole a glance, Maxine was turned away, looking at Chloe’s lap. Not in a gross way though— she was reading. Chloe could see her eyes moving across the page.  
Chloe didn’t realise that someone could have eyes that blue. Like they were really, _really_ blue. Like _help-me-I-might-drown_ blue. That made it sound like a bad thing. It wasn’t. It might even be her favourite thing about Maxine.  
Today she was wearing a giant sweater, grey and wooly, probably made for a man it was that big. Chloe was kind of sad, kind of glad that she had retired the safety pin hairclip, but she had magpie-tied ribbons around her wrists instead, all different colours. She looked ridiculous.  
And she was reading Chloe’s comics.  
Chloe felt like she should say something to her.  
She _always_ felt like she should say something to her, even if it was just _hi,_ or _excuse me_ , but she had gone too long without saying anything and now it was all irrevocably weird. For an _hour_ a day. Especially after the encounter last night.  
In the end, Chloe kept her mouth shut. She just held her comics open wider and turned the pages more slowly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't ask me about weird formatting, it's perfect when I write it and then it gets impossibly screwed up when I paste it into the text box. I don't understand technology.
> 
> Sorry this took extra long. I was originally going to just post what I had already written last week, but I decided that what I had left wasn't enough and was also a completely terrible place to finish a chapter. 
> 
> P.S. Thanks to Got_Well_Soon, who checks over my work. The everyday hero, the 80s master, regularly saving you from typos and awkward sentence phrasing.  
> Peace out, yo. (this is quite possibly 90s slang but I'm really running out of creative ways to sound like an 80s teen)  
> -Vulpixels ;)
> 
> NEXT CHAPTER DUE TO BE POSTED: 24/10/17 (possibly sooner)


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Max and Chloe make Progress. Like, actual progress. Kind of. It's in the realm of actual progress.

  
**CHLOE**  
  
Chloe was going to tell her she did a good job on her poem. Yes. That’s what she was going to do.

Then again, maybe _good job_ was an understatement. Maxine _—_ wait, _Max_ — had recited her poem like it was something that was alive, like it was something that needed to be let out. You couldn’t look away from her when she was talking. (Even more than Chloe usually couldn’t.) For the first time all year, Chloe had put her pencil down to listen, a squirrel left tragically tail-less on her page, and actually felt like she understood poetry. Okay, _understood_ may have been an exaggeration, but she was definitely somewhere in the ballpark. Besides, it must have been good — everyone clapped, and Mr. Stessman hugged her when she was done, which was totally against the Code of Conduct.  
‘Hey, good job. In English.’ That’s what Chloe was going to say.  
After walking Jennifer home from ballet class that night, she picked up her comics — but she waited until Thursday morning to read them.  
  
**MAX**  
  
That girl totally knew Max was reading her comics. She even looked up at Max sometimes before she turned the page, like she was _that polite._  
The girl definitely wasn’t one of them ( _them_ being the bus demons) because, as far as Max was aware, she didn’t talk to anyone on the bus, including Max. _Especially_ Max. At the same time, Max knew she had to be in with them somehow. Whenever they were together, everyone left her alone. Even Victoria. Max kind of wished she could be with her all the time. Max didn’t know what made her so weirdly untouchable. She really wasn’t that scary once you were able to look past all of her… everything.  
  
This morning, when Max slid into her seat, she felt like the girl was… waiting. For her? The girl didn’t say anything, just wordlessly opened her comic and turned her eyes to the page. The once six-inch gap between them was gradually shrinking, but mainly because Max wanted to see the left pages, too. Eventually, she got so close that she could feel the heat radiating from the girl’s body. She smelled like clean soap and cinnamon.  
       Today, the girl had brought _Watchmen,_ which Max had never seen before, and it was ugly. Like, really ugly. Max sighed, knowing she had nothing better to do for half an hour, so she let her eyes wander over the pages. And then she was reading. And then they were at school. Which was weird, because they hadn’t even made it half way through. Which totally sucked, because Max would miss the parts the girl read during lunch.  
Except she didn’t.  
  
When Max climbed back on the bus that afternoon, there was the girl, there was the comic, and there was the exact page that they had left it on. There was so much going on in that they stared at each frame for like, entire _minutes_ , meaning that they had only read a few more pages when they arrived at Max’s stop. As she got up, the girl closed the cover and handed it to her. Just like that. Max was so surprised that she stood frozen for a few seconds, almost shoving it back into the other girl’s hands before—  
“Take it.”  
       Max took it. Her hands were shaking but she hoped that the girl didn’t notice. _What if she crumpled it? What if one of the kids got hold of it?_ She tried to hand it back, but the girl had already turned away, staring determinedly out of the window once again. Max slipped it between her books like a secret and got off the bus.  
She read it over three more times that night, lying in her bed, squinting at the words in the darkness.  
  
**CHLOE**  
  
What if she didn’t give it back?  
What if she never got to finish the first issue of Watchmen because she’d given it to a girl who didn’t ask for it and probably didn’t even know who Alan Moore was?  
She was so, so stupid. _Take it. Ugh._ Somehow, she always managed to sound like a giant bitch. So far, Max’s impression of her was entirely based on the six words she had angrily grunted at her over the course of a month, and it _seriously_ bothered Chloe, even though she totally wasn’t supposed to care about what other people thought. This girl was single-handedly responsible for the slow collapse of her punk rock self-image.  
Maybe it would be a good thing if Max kept it. Maybe it would cancel out the whole _Jesus-fuck_ scenario. No… it wouldn’t.  
What if she _did_ give it back? What was she supposed to say then? _Thanks?_

The next morning, when the bus pulled up to Max’s stop, Chloe actually felt her heartbeat speed up as she waited for Max to climb up the steps. More and more people were shuffling along the aisle, chattering and laughing, but it wasn’t until she saw Max and released her breath in one giant huff that she realised she'd been holding it. Max slipped into the seat beside her, no longer awkwardly perching on the very edge of the seat. Chloe looked down. Their thighs were almost touching.  
There was a moment where Chloe thought that Max had, in fact, stolen her unfinished comic book. But she hadn’t.  
Max handed the comic to her, and Chloe took it.  
  
**MAX**  
  
When Max got to her seat the next morning, there was a stack of comics waiting for her. The girl was already reading. Max tucked them in-between her textbooks, and stared out of the window for the rest of the journey. She didn’t want to read in front of her. That would be like letting her watch her eat. Like admitting something.  
She thought about them all day, though. They burned a hole in her backpack, and by the time she got home she was bursting with anticipation. She didn’t even eat dinner at the table, and her mom didn’t care.  
Max spread each comic out in front of her on her bed, careful not to spill any instant mash on them because they were all surprisingly pristine. Not even a corner was bent out of place.  
That night, after Sophie and Christopher and little Mouse had fallen asleep, she crept out of bed and turned the light back on. They were the loudest, heaviest sleepers ever. Christopher was mumbling in his sleep, wriggling around, and Sophie was snoring. Mouse wet the bed sometimes, which was silent, but generally disturbed the peace. Max wasn’t too concerned with waking them.  
She was only very slightly aware of the low mumble of the TV playing in the living room. Jeff must have been watching sports, because if she moved to the edge of her bed, she could just see his fist clutching the TV remote. Every so often, he would jump up, or cry out, and every time Max got such a fright that she almost hit her head on the ceiling. She was so absorbed in the fifth issue that when he jerked the door open, Max thought her heart was going to stop, but not in a wow-this punk-girl-gave-me-comics way. More of a holy-shit-I-might-die way, which was considerably worse.The look on his face suggested that he had expected to burst in on some late-night (nine PM) hijinks, but when he saw it was just Max, his expression soured. He grumbled at her to turn of the light so that the kids could sleep, and then closed the door behind him— but not all the way, just in case she dared to leave the light on. Max shuffled to the end of the bed and groped for the switch, plunging the room into darkness. She could have risked it and ignored him, but she didn’t want to see Jeff’s face again. He looked like a rat. Max wondered what her mom had ever seen in him. Anyway. Whatever. She could still read. There was enough light coming in from the window.  
  
**CHLOE**  
  
Max read stuff as fast as Chloe could give it to her. Every day, she’d leave a stack of comics on her seat, and every day, Max would return the last ones with so much care that Chloe was weirdly touched. She treated them like they were alive and fragile. Like a kitten, or a baby. You wouldn’t even know she had touched them, if it weren’t for the smell. Every comic that Chloe got back always ended up smelling like Max. Like vanilla. Like a whole field of it.  
She’d read all of Chloe’s Alan Moore comics in a week. Now, Chloe was giving her X-Men five at a time, and she could tell Max liked them because she wrote the characters’ names on the front of her notebooks, sandwiched between song lyrics and band names. They didn’t talk on the bus rides, but the silence wasn’t as pressing as it once had been. It was almost… friendly. Almost. Not quite.  
  
Chloe would _have_ to talk to her today. She had made the spectacular mistake of leaving the comics on the kitchen table this morning because she was running late, and now she had nothing to give her. And Chloe would have to explain that, or Max would get the wrong idea. She’d think that Chloe was… mad or something. Retracting her peace offering. Whatever. She didn’t even have time to eat breakfast, or brush her teeth, which made her self-conscious, because Max was going to be sitting so close.  
But when Max got on the bus and saw the very obvious space where her comics should be, Chloe just shrugged, and watched Max’s face fall. _Ouch._ They both looked down. Max was wearing those ugly ribbons again, tied around her wrists, which were covered with so many freckles. All different colours, pink and gold and brown and going down onto her hands. Her tiny, tiny hands.  
Max stared at the notebooks in her lap. Chloe looked at them too, covered in ink and doodles and spirals like the ones she drew in class.  
‘So,’ Chloe said, as casually as she could, ‘you like the Smiths?’  
Max looked up, confused. Her eyes looked even bigger when she was caught by surprise like that. Chloe pointed to her book with a blue fingernail, where she saw the words _How Soon Is Now?_ printed in block capitals. Max shrugged.  
‘I don’t know. I’ve never heard them.’  
‘So you want people to _think_ you like the Smiths?’ Chloe said, trying and failing to conceal her disdain.  
‘Yeah,’ Max said sarcastically, glancing over her shoulder at the others on the bus, ‘I’m trying to impress the locals.’  
Her eyes were narrowed, and she had pulled her notebooks into her chest. Chloe couldn’t tell if she was _trying_ to sound like an asshole, or if it just came naturally to both of them. She shifted towards the wall, and Max looked out the window. The air soured around them.  
  
Max was trying so hard to ignore Chloe that she wouldn’t even participate in class. English, which Chloe assumed was Max’s favourite subject, was particularly painful. Mr Stessman kept trying to bait her out of her shell, and kept failing. They were supposed to be discussing _Romeo and Juliet_ , but nobody in the class wanted to talk. Chloe could almost hear the crickets chirping in the silence.  
As Mr Stessman always did when class was quiet, he turned to his favourite student. When it came to English, Max pretty much had an answer for everything.  
‘You don’t seem particularly troubled by their deaths, Maxine.’ He said, stepping slowly, dramatically towards her desk. His shoes squeaked.  
‘It’s Max. And no. It’s so obvious that Shakespeare was making fun of them.’  
This was the reaction Stessman was looking for. He smiled, but also frowned. It was weird.  
‘But this is _the_ tragedy of tragedies. Two young lovers lying dead. _Never was there a story of more woe._ Doesn’t that get to you?’  
‘I guess not.’  
‘Are you so cold? So cool?’ He gestured wildly with his hands.  
‘I just think that… that they’re so young. They’re just two rich kids who’ve gotten everything they’ve ever wanted their whole lives. And now they think they want each other.’  
‘But it was _love at first sight!_ ’ He cried, clutching his heart. Max sighed, beginning to fidget with the ribbons around her wrists.  
‘It wasn’t. It was oh-my-God-he’s-so-cute at first sight. Shakespeare wouldn't have made Romeo so hung up on Rosaline in the first scene if he wanted you to believe in love. He’s making fun of it. You can’t fall in love with someone because you think they’re pretty. You fall in love with what’s inside.’ She finished. A few of the class snickered.  
‘Then why has it survived?’  
‘I don’t know. Because it’s Shakespeare.’  
‘Someone else, someone with a heart, tell me Miss Price. What beats in your chest?’ Chloe made eye contact with Max, scowling, and didn’t look away. Not until Max did, anyway. Then she turned her attention to Mr Stessman.  
‘I guess people just want to remember what it’s like to be young. And to be in love.’  
‘I don’t know if that’s why Romeo and Juliet has become the most successful play of all time, but you’re certainly right. Yes, indeed, Miss Price. Truer words never spoken.’

When Chloe arrived at her seat that afternoon, Max was already there.  
‘It’s a wishlist.’ She said quietly, staring at her fidgeting hands.  
‘Huh?’ Chloe sat down, this time in the aisle seat. She wasn’t used to this whole… talking thing they’d started doing.  
‘The songs. On my books. They’re songs I want to hear.’  
‘Then… why don’t you just listen to them?’ Chloe asked. Max continued to stare at her hands. She was twisting one of the ribbons around her finger again. She did that a lot.  
‘It’s not like they play this stuff on the radio here. Just… forget I even said anything.’ she said, turning towards the window. They didn’t speak again after that. 

That night, while Chloe did her homework, she made a tape with all of her favourite Smiths songs. And a few by XTC and Joy Division. Then she put five new X-Men comics into her backpack, along with the tape, and went to sleep.  
  
**MAX**  
  
Max was taking a bath. They didn’t have a bathroom door, just a curtain, so she liked to have one right after school, before Jeff got home. She ducked her head under the hot water and pretended for a second that she was floating in some clouds, and not in a tiny bathtub in a grimy bathroom that didn’t even have a goddamn door.  
‘Why are you so quiet?’ called her mom from the kitchen. She was probably microwaving some frozen monstrosity for them to eat.  
‘I’m having a bath.’ Max answered, watching the clear water ripple. She missed having bubbles.  
‘I know that. Usually you sing.’  
‘I do not.’  
‘You do.’  
‘Well, thanks for telling me. I won’t sing anymore.’ Max said, pulling the plug and climbing out. The water was getting kind of cold anyway. When she emerged from behind the curtain, her mom was waiting with a tiny bottle of vanilla extract, which she smudged just behind Max’s ears.  
‘Why do you do that?’ Max asked, smiling as her mom put some on herself, too.  
‘It’s cheaper than perfume. But it smells just as good, Maxie. You’ll have boys falling all over you, just wait and see.’  
_Hah. Boys._  
‘Do you want to watch a little TV with me before Jeff gets home?’ her mom asked, tucking Max’s wet hair behind her ear. Max shook her head.  
‘No thanks, mom. I think I’m gonna just go do my homework.’  
‘Oh. Alright, Maxie. Dinner’s almost ready anyway.’  
Her mom knew something was up, Max could tell she knew, she mom didn’t push any further. She used to make Max tell her everything. ‘What’s going on in that big ol’ brain of yours?’ She’d say, knocking on Max’s skull, ‘Are you thinking yourself into a knot, my little worry-wombat?’  
She hadn’t said anything like that to her since Max moved back. Maybe she’d realised that she didn’t have the right to ask anymore.  
  
Max shoved Muffin off the top bunk. Again. He left his grey fur all over her bedsheets.  
Why didn’t the girl bring her any comics today? Why had Max been such an asshole to her? Max wondered if the girl was done with it. Done with her. Why did she even start in the first place? She looked at her notebook, at the scrawly writing all over the cover and wanted to tear it off.  
Max was tired. She hadn’t realised how tired that staying up reading every night had made her. How happy it had made her. If the girl hadn’t brought Max any comics today, she sure as shit wasn’t bringing Max any tomorrow, especially after how Max had acted today. _Goddammit._  
  
Max had fallen asleep. It was dark when she was awoken by shouting, and the room smelled of pee. Mouse had wet the bed.  
‘It’s _tough!_ Can’t you cook a goddamn steak, bitch? You think this is good enough?’  
‘I tried, Jeff! You were late coming home, I— I had to leave it in the oven! What if it had gotten cold?’  
‘Not my GODDAMN PROBLEM!’ he shouted. Max flinched. Mouse began to whimper.  
‘It’s okay,’ she heard Sophie shush him from the floor, so Max climbed down the ladder and sat beside them on the mattress. When she pulled Mouse into her lap, he curled against her chest. Max winced. Mouse had definitely wet the bed.  
That’s when they heard glass shattering. All four of them jumped. Sophie looked up at Max with wide eyes, full of fear.  
‘It’s alright, Sophie.’ Max said, putting an arm around her younger sister. Sophie began to cry silently into Max’s side, and Max wondered when Sophie had learned to cry so quietly. She used to wail and wail and wail. Max wanted to cry too, but she was the oldest, so she just hummed the only song she could think of, trying to drown out the shouting.  
‘Maybe I didn't treat you…quite as good as I should have…’  
Her mother began to plead. Mouse began to wail.  
‘Maybe I didn't love you…quite as often as I could have…’  
Christopher crawled across the room, reaching out for Max’s hand. He joined in the song, eyes watery. Max realised that it was probably because he was the only one who was old enough to remember they days when their dad would play Elvis on the record player. And he’d dance with their mom, who’d laugh and try to wriggle away at first, but she always gave up in the end. And Max and Christopher would spin and spin and spin, so fast that the whole world went blurry and she felt like she wanted to puke. That’s how she felt now.  
‘You were always on my mind…’  
  
The next morning, Max jolted awake, only one thought in her mind. She shoved Mouse off her and stuck her nose out of the door. Bacon. Good. That meant her mom was alive.  
It was morbid, but it was all Max could think about. She walked into the kitchen/living room/dining room.  
‘I need to take a bath.’ Max said, wrinkling her nose. Her mom frowned. Max pretended not to notice the bruise on her jaw. ( _that fuck, that fuck, that fuck_ )  
‘I slept on the floor with Mouse last night. He wet the bed.’  
‘Again? _God._ Don’t let Jeff see you. I’ll wash your clothes.’  
  
Max left the house that morning feeling tired and anxious and dishevelled.She reached the bus stop fifteen minutes early, and spent her wait trying really hard not to smell like pee.

  
**CHLOE**  
  
When Chloe got on the bus, she set the comics and the tape down so they’d just be waiting for Max. So she didn’t have to say anything.  
But when Max got on the bus, Chloe could tell that something was… _wrong._ The ribbons around her wrists were gone. Her hair was still damp. She was wearing the same clothes that she wore yesterday. Max stopped at her seat, looked at the pile (where were her schoolbooks?) and sat down, careful as ever.  
‘Thank you,’ Max said quietly, ‘but I can’t take this.’  
‘It’s fine, I made it for you. It’s got all your wishlist songs on it.’  
Max pushed the tape back into Chloe’s hands.  
‘I don’t need it.’ Chloe said, almost angrily.  
‘No _,_ ’ Max said. It was almost loud enough for other people to hear. ‘I mean I can’t… listen to it. I don’t have any way to. Just take it.’ Max looked down at her lap.  
Chloe took it. Then, she reached into her bag, popped the tape out of her walkman, and slid Max’s tape in. After a second’s hesitation, she put the headphones over Max’s ears, scowling at the boy across the aisle, who was watching. Chloe didn’t breathe the whole entire time.  
When she pressed play, she could actually hear the start of the first song. [I am the son, and the heir…](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hnpILIIo9ek) she hummed along. Max didn’t look up, but she did lift her head a little as the tape wore on. Sometimes, Chloe would even catch her tapping her finger against her leg. When they arrived, Max gave the headphones back. _Was that a smile?_  
They got off the bus together. And then they stayed together. Chloe wasn’t sure how they managed to separate each day, because their lockers were on opposite sides of the same corridor. She kind of liked this new… talking thing. She kept trying to think of something to say, but every time she opened her mouth the words got all tangled up in her throat, or they sounded stupid in her head, so she settled for walking beside Max until they reached her locker.  
‘Well,’ Chloe said finally, when it was time for them to go to class, ‘now you’ve heard the Smiths.’  
And Max…  
Max laughed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 'sup  
> I'm actually on time again!!! understand my very real excitement, this never happens. Look at that OUTSTANDING self-discipline. I might even be early but I don't know. I'm not that organised.  
> Thanks for reading! Your comments on the last few chapters were all real nice, so thanks for that too :)  
> Thanks again to my beta, he always turns whatever I give him around SO fast. What a STAR  
> Until next time!  
> -Vulpixels ;) 
> 
> The next update will probably be this week again, because I have nothing to do all week, but after that it should go back to the regular posting schedule that I made. Next Monday (30/10/17) at the latest ^^


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ;)))))))))))))))
> 
>  
> 
> Now THAT'S what I call progress.

  
****

**MAX**  
She should have just taken the damn tape. She didn’t need to go around telling everyone what she did and didn’t have. Including Price.  
But at the same time… she didn’t entirely regret it. Max had never met anyone like her before. She was just so unapologetically _her._ And it was kind of awesome. And Max kind of wanted to be her. Or just be around her all the time. Both were good.  
The amount of time she had spent staring at that girl’s hands over the last month, she probably knew them better than her own. They were… weirdly soft for someone who looked so tough. Like hands that were made to play piano, hands that belonged in a renaissance painting, clutching some pearls or delicately draped over a heavy velvet skirt. So far, Max was just confused by her— she was made up of parts that shouldn’t mesh, but they _did._ And that’s why Max’s mind kept drifting back to her. Because she couldn’t figure her out. It was all human curiosity. At least, that’s what she told herself.  
  
Victoria was particularly awful in P.E, but Max barely even noticed, because her head was still back on the bus. If she concentrated, she could still hear the singer’s voice ringing in her head, the guitar, the drums. It was a nice feeling, and one that even Victoria wasn’t able to ruin— until she actually pushed Max. Like, onto the floor, right in front of everyone. By _accident,_ of course _._ A few of the kids laughed, and the teacher pretended not to see, because Victoria was… well, Victoria.  
A small, blonde girl that Max didn’t know came towards her once everyone had gone back to practicing dribbling. They didn’t share any classes as far as she was aware, but Max guessed she was probably the kind of girl that never raised her hand, so if they did… Max might not have noticed her.  
The girl reached her hand out, helping Max up. When she leant over, the cross around her neck dangled into the empty space between them, swinging back and forth in front of Max’s face. _  
_ ‘Are you alright?’ The girl asked. Her voice was soft and high.  
‘Yeah, I’m fine. Used to it. I’m Max, by the way.’  
‘Yeah, the new girl. I’m Kate.’ She replied with a smile. ‘Don’t pay attention to Victoria. She’s just extra angry today because Nathan said he thought Chloe was hot.’  
‘Chloe?’ Max asked.  
‘You’ve probably seen her. Blue hair?’  
_Oh. ‘That’s_ Chloe?’  
‘Uh,’ Kate hesitated, ‘Yeah. Why?’  
‘No reason,’ Max said, tucking her hair behind her ear. _Chloe. It suited her._ _Chloe Price. Wow, it just rolls off the tongue like—  
_ ‘—with me?’  
‘ _Huh?’_ Max replied. She had totally zoned out for a second there.  
‘Do you wanna have lunch with me today?’ Kate asked for a second time. Max couldn’t help but feel like maybe Kate pitied her a little, but she wasn’t about to turn down the first person that had actually been nice to her. Well. Second, if she counted Chloe. Now that she finally knew her name, she couldn’t help but think about how much it really _really_ suited her—  
‘Earth to Max?’ Kate waved her hand in front of Max’s face. She’d been zoning out again. ‘So… I’ll see you at lunch?’  
‘Yeah,’ Max muttered. _Chloe. Nice._

  
**CHLOE**  
When they got back on the bus, Max accepted her walkman without protesting. She even put the headphones on herself this time. And when they arrived at her stop, she took them off carefully, handing them back to Chloe with the same care that she handled the comic books.  
‘You can borrow it. Finish the tape.’ Chloe said, offering it back to Max.  
‘I don’t want to break it.’  
‘You’re not gonna break it.’  
‘I don’t want to use up the batteries.’  
‘I don’t care about the batteries.’  
Max paused. ‘You don’t?’  
‘They’re just batteries.’  
Max paused for a moment, before taking the walkman back, removing the tape, and tipping the batteries into her hand. She put it all in her bag without saying a word, and then she got off the bus.  
_God. She is so weird._  
  
**MAX**  
The batteries ran out around 1:30am. But it didn’t matter. She could still hear the songs inside her head.  
  
**CHLOE**  
‘Mom!’ Chloe called from her bedroom doorway. She was holding the remote for a toy car in her hand— unfortunately, the car had gone missing about four years ago. Jennifer was the main suspect, though the case had gone cold (Joyce got mad at her for pestering her sister about it) and so it remained tragically unsolved.  
‘MOM!’  
‘What _is_ it, Chloe?’  
‘Where are all the batteries?’  
‘Batteries? What do you want those for?’ Joyce came out of the kitchen and started to climb the stairs, frowning when she saw her daughter rummaging around in the junk closet.  
‘Now Chloe, don’t you go makin’ a mess. What have you got that old thing out for? I ought to throw it in the trash.’  
‘I’m looking for batteries, mom. I literally _just_ said that.’  
‘Give me that,’ Joyce said, snatching the remote from Chloe’s hands, ’batteries are in the kitchen drawer next to the sink.’ She grumbled as she walked back down the stairs, shaking her head as she went.‘Don’t use the ones you took from this. They’re duds.’  
‘Thanks!’ Chloe shouted.  
‘That child,’ Joyce sighed, tossing the remote in the trashcan.  
  
**MAX  
** She remembered all of her books today. And her mom had washed her favourite pair of jeans, the ones without the weird, patched-up knee hole. And she didn’t smell like pee.   
Plus, Max had all of Chloe’s songs stuck in her head, and in her chest, and in her whole body. Like a swarm of bees, but in her blood. A good swarm of bees, not the kind that she was mildly allergic to. It made Max feel things, feel _everything_ , and something about it made her nervous — but good-nervous. _That’s called being excited,_ she remembered, allowing herself a moment to enjoy the feeling of being _just_ on the edge of something great.  
‘You’re chipper this morning,’ said her mom as she watched Max inhale a third slice of toast.  
‘Gonna be late, mom,’ she said as she stood up, ‘I gotta go.’  
Max’s mouth was still full of toast, but her mom didn’t say anything. She hadn’t cared about table manners for a while. Max waved over her shoulder, letting the screen door slam behind her as she left.  
  
When she got on the bus that morning, she looked up instantly to find Chloe looking right back at her. Like she was waiting. Max couldn’t help it, she grinned.  
As soon as she sat down, she sunk low in the seat, hiding her smile before the bus-ruffians noticed her smile and decided to get rid of it.  
She was super-aware that Chloe was right next to her. Like, _super_ aware. She could practically feel her hair standing on end, but she didn’t know what to say, she’d forgotten how to speak. She just stared at those hands again. Chloe’s nails were dark blue now. It was pretty.  
‘Did you listen?’ Chloe asked. Max looked up at Chloe’s face, even though she knew it was going to feel like someone had pushed a hook right through her heart.  
‘Yeah, it was… _awesome._ ’ she replied, unable to contain her smile any longer.  
‘Which one?’  
‘All of them. I just love that one song. You know… the one where he’s all moody?’  
‘Every song is moody.’ Chloe laughed.  
‘I don’t know any of their names.’ Max paused, thinking through the lyrics. ‘I think it’s called… [Love Will Tear Us Apart?](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zuuObGsB0No)’  
‘Oh yeah. Joy Division?’  
‘It was just so _good._ I want to listen to the beginning over and over and over.’  
‘You could have.’ Chloe said. Her eyes were smiling, her mouth only sort of. Max felt the hook in her heart again.  
‘I didn’t want to waste the batteries.’  
Chloe shook her head, reaching into her bag and pulling out two more.  
‘I got you covered. Rewind ’til you hate that song. But… it's kind of impossible to hate, I think you're safe.’  
‘Are you sure?’ Max said, hand hovering halfway to Chloe’s.  
‘Yeah, dude. They're just batteries.’ Chloe said, pressing them into Max's palm. ‘Anyway… what about the Smiths?’ She had that half smile again.  
‘I didn’t know who was who,’ Max answered.  
‘I’ll write it down for you.’  
‘I liked it all.’  
‘Good.’  
‘I _loved_ it.’  
Chloe smiled, but turned away to look out the window. Max felt her heart stutter as she scrambled for something else to say, something to keep the talking— the back and forth, the smiling— going for as long as possible.  
‘And I love the X-Men. Except Cyclops.’  
Chloe turned back to her. She looked comically offended.  
‘You can’t hate _Cyclops_! He’s the captain, for God’s sake.’  
‘He’s more boring than Batman. When you bring Batman I catch myself listening to Nathan, or staring out the window.’  
‘Huh,’ said Chloe as the bus pulled to a stop. Chloe was judging her.  
‘What?’ Max replied, almost defensively. She wasn’t used to this whole friends thing yet.  
‘Nothing. Now I know what you’re thinking when you space out like that.’  
‘No you don’t,’ Max said as they pulled into the parking lot, ‘I mix it up.’  
‘I’m bringing you _The Dark Knight Returns._ ’ said Chloe. People were pushing into Max’s shoulder now. She stood up.  
‘What’s that?’  
‘Only the best Batman story ever written.’ Chloe said.  
‘Oh, does he raise _both_ of his eyebrows this time?’ Max replied.  
Chloe laughed, like _actually_ laughed, and Max was shocked at how different she looked when she wasn’t sulking. How un-scary she could be. Max liked it.  
  
**CHLOE**  
That day, in History, Chloe noticed how Max’s shirt was so large it was slipping off to the side. _Huh._ She even had freckles on her shoulders.  
  
**MAX**  
In second period English, Max noticed how Chloe always twirled a short lock of her hair around her finger when she concentrated. And that the guy behind her— the blonde one with the weird, permanently vacant look _—_ totally had a crush on her.  
  
**CHLOE**  
That night, Chloe made a tape with the Joy Division song over and over again. Then she called her grandma to tell her that all she wanted for her birthday was double A batteries.  
  
**MAX**  
‘Warren has a crush on you.’ Kate said, matter-of-factly. Kate and Max ate lunch together now. It was a thing.  
‘Warren is… nice.’ Max said.  
‘Exactly. You’re nice, he’s nice… you guys would be a perfect match.’  
‘You can’t match a couple based on niceness, Kate.’ Max said, resting her head in her hands. Kate paused for a moment, before her face lit up in sudden realisation.  
‘Maxine Caulfield, you have a crush on someone else!’ she said happily, clasping her hands in front of her in excitement.  
‘Kate,’ Max pleaded, raising her eyebrows in a way that she hoped would say _not today._ Really, she meant _not ever,_ but Max had a feeling that Kate would be a lot less willing to accept that answer.  
‘I get it. Besides, gossiping is hardly a nice way to spend time.’  
The bell rang, and Max and Kate walked together to their next shared class, French. In the passing period, Max saw Chloe walk by.  
  
**CHLOE**  
‘So… Juliet and Lady Macbeth.’ Chloe said, as Nancy turned to face her. Mr. Stessman was making them work ‘collaboratively’, which was teacher speak for ‘I don’t want to do any work today’.  
Her partner, Nancy, sighed. They were kind of friends, so it wasn’t as bad as it could have been. They used to ride their bikes together around the neighbourhood after meeting in kindergarten— bonds forged in the sandbox never totally break.  
‘Eliot is gonna ask you to homecoming.’ Nancy said, glancing across the room at where he was working. Chloe pretended not to hear.  
‘Okay so… Lady Macbeth is what, a psychopath?’  
‘I’m serious, Chlo. He’s totally into you.’  
‘What I’m hearing is that _you_ think that Juliet is selfish but Lady Macbeth is self _less_. Nice point, Nance.’  
‘You can’t just avoid him forever.’  
‘God,’ Chloe said, rolling her eyes, ‘can we not talk about this? Please?’  
Chloe and Eliot had been friends for a while. She had started distancing herself in middle school, when he asked her to the winter dance after class one day. She politely declined, but they could never quite get back to how things were before that, so they stopped hanging out. She remembered what she had thought then, the moment that he had grabbed her wrist to get her attention with his sweaty hand, and still found it to be very much the truth: _Boys suck._  
‘So class,’ Mr. Stessman said, clapping his hands, ‘what ideas do we have?’  
Nancy’s eyes widened.‘Shit, what do we have? Lady Macbeth is psycho bitch and Juliet is like, what, a sixth-grader?’  
  
**MAX**  
‘So you like new wave now?’  
‘Yep.’ Chloe said.  
Max worried that one day, Chloe wouldn’t take her headphones off. That they’d just stop talking, or she’d get on the bus and Chloe wouldn’t look up. Max really didn’t want that to happen, because then Chloe would see how much it would hurt her. It probably wouldn’t happen that way— they were friends now, after all — but Max couldn’t help but worry, even when the opposite was happening. In fact, they hadn’t _stopped_ talking. When they agreed about something, Chloe’s eyes would go wide and she’d nod enthusiastically.  
‘ _Yes.’_ They’d say, back and forth, ‘Totally.’  
‘Exactly.’  
‘Right?’  
But Max liked it even better when they _didn’t_ agree. Chloe would get all passionate about whatever they were arguing over, and then eventually Max would crack a joke, and they’d laugh together. Like friends. Real, actual friends.  
‘If you were in the X-Men, what kind of power would you want?’ Chloe asked one day, leaning against the window so she could face Max. She let her arm rest along the back of the seat, fingertips almost reaching Max, who resisted the urge to shuffle closer.  
‘I’d want to turn invisible.’ 

‘Why?’ Chloe frowned.  
‘I don’t know… people would stare less, I guess.’  
‘That power sucks. The whole world deserves to see your crazy fashion.’  
‘Fine. I’d want to turn back time.’  
‘ _Yes,_ ’ Chloe agreed, grinning, ‘now _that’s_ a power I can get behind. Can I be your sidekick?’  
‘Sure.’  
‘Your partner in crime?’ Chloe asked. She had that mischievous look in her eyes, and Max wasn’t sure where she was going with this.  
‘Uh… sure.’  
‘What about your partner in _time_?’ She had that stupid grin on her face, like she was proud of herself.  
‘Shut up, Price.’  
  
**CHLOE**  
It was 8pm, meaning she had an hour to show Max before her mom got mad. She was supposed to walk Jennifer home from ballet again, but Jennifer could wait. Chloe had stuff to do.  
When she stepped outside, she saw Nathan across the street, working on his car. He had a wrench in his hand, and waved at Chloe with it.  
‘Sneaking out to visit your girlfriend, Price?’ He shouted, grinning at his own joke. Victoria snorted from the passenger seat.  
‘She’s not my girlfriend.’  
‘Sure.’  
Chloe shook her head, walking away. _Well, she wasn’t,_ she thought to herself, cutting through the alley.  
Nathan wasn’t that bad. They’d been neighbours for their entire lives, so Chloe had learned to ignore the majority of the shit that he spewed. They used to help her dad fix cars together, and had even figured out how to do a sort-of-perfect acapella rendition of Mr Sandman when they were eight. Oh, and they dated for about a week in the sixth grade. Victoria, on the other hand…  
Chloe carried on walking.  
  
She remembered where Max lived. It was the house where that rottweiler, which she’d nicknamed Cerberus, liked to chill when he wasn’t busy guarding the gates of hell. When she arrived, the dog was sleeping in the front yard. Chloe had to step over a few broken toys to reach the door, but the dog didn’t move, even when Chloe climbed the steps and knocked on the door.  
She had expected Max’s mom to open the door, but when it swung open, Chloe was met with Jeff Douglas. Of course.  
‘What do you want?’ He said gruffly. His nose was sharp like a knife, and he was glaring straight down it at Chloe. His lips were curled up into a sneer.  
‘Is Max home?’  
‘Who’s asking?’  
‘We go to school together.’  
Jeff considered this for a moment, an then closed the door right in her face. Chloe wasn’t sure what to do, so she awkwardly hovered for a few moments, comic book clutched to her chest. When she was about to leave, Max opened the door just wide enough to slip out. Right away, Chloe knew she had made a mistake in coming. Max’s eyes were wide with panic, her lips parted in a mixture of shock and fear and maybe not knowing what to say. Chloe felt like maybe she should have realised sooner what kind of trouble this would cause. She had just been so caught up in showing her…  
‘Hey,’ Chloe said.  
‘Hi.’  
‘I…’  
‘…came to get acquainted with our dog Susan?’  
Chloe held out the new issue of _Watchmen_ that she had been clutching to her chest and saw Max’s eyes light up.  
‘Have you read it?’ Max asked. Her voice was barely above a whisper, but Chloe could tell she was excited.  
‘No, I thought we could… together.’  
Max glanced back at the house, staring at the closed door as if she expected Jeff to burst out any second, but he didn’t. She tiptoed down down the steps and along the gravel path, and Chloe followed her across the lawn to the back steps of the elementary school across the street. There was a huge safety light over the door. Max sat on the top step, and Chloe sat next to her.  
It took twice as long to read this time, partly because it was so weird being together but not being on the bus, and partly because Chloe kept getting distracted. Max’s hair was wet, and hanging in dark tendrils around her face. Some of it was stuck to her cheek, but Chloe resisted the urge to brush it aside. When they reached the last page, all Chloe really wanted to do was talk to Max. (all she ever wanted to do was talk to Max). But Max was already standing up, brushing the dirt off her pyjama pants.  
‘Well… Thanks. For letting me read it.’  
‘No problem.’  
I’ve gotta go,’ she said.  
‘Alright. I guess I do, too.’ Chloe replied, standing. Before she could even contemplate a goodbye, Max was already closing the door.  
  
**MAX**  
Max would have to walk in front of the TV to get to her room. The TV that Jeff was currently watching. She took a breath. _Just a few quick steps_.  
‘Who was that?’ Barked Jeff when she entered his line of sight.  
‘Nobody. Just a girl from school.’  
‘Was she your _girlfriend?_ ’ He sneered.  
‘Jeff!’ Protested her mom from the kitchen.  
‘Shut up, Vanessa. Was she?’  
‘No.’  
‘What did she want, then?’  
Max’s eyes flickered to her mom, who was wringing her hands.  
‘She wanted to talk about an assignment.’ Max lied, shifting her weight nervously.  
‘I know what you’re up to, you little _queer_.’ He spat the word, then took a swig of beer to wash his mouth out. Max crossed to her bedroom and waited for a second before closing the door, in case he had something else to say. He raised his voice as she retreated into her room. ‘Nothing but a bitch in heat!’  
Max climbed into bed and squeezed her eyes shut until she could breathe without wanting to scream. Until this moment, she had kept Chloe completely separate from this house, from Jeff. Chloe lived in a separate part of her brain, the best part. The part that she spent most of her daydreams in. Now, Jeff had somehow wormed his way in there too. And he was ruining everything. Now, Max couldn’t think about Chloe’s smile, or how awesome her hair looked in the dark, or how she smelled like cinnamon and bar soap when Max got close enough…  
Without seeing Jeff leer.  
‘Max,’ whispered Sophie from the floor, ‘was she _really_ your girlfriend?’  
Max could feel her disgust, even from the top bunk. It was radiating off her, all the way up to the ceiling.  
‘ _No,_ ’ she hissed angrily, ‘she’s just a girl.’  
Max turned her back on Sophie, pulling the covers up over her head.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey there :)  
> I hope you liked this chapter. Gotta add a dash of homophobia, because the it's 80s. Yummy.  
> Finally: thanks YET AGAIN for your comments, they were so kind and made me real happy and are 72% of my motivation to post quickly. The other 23% is just because I love writing this.  
> NEXT UPDATE: Monday 6th Nov or sooner  
> It's my 18th coming up real soon after that (the 9th) so that week's chapter might be delayed because my family is extra and takes up the whole damn week with celebrations.  
> Until next time ;)  
> -Vulpixels


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [Summary] A date. Practically. 
> 
> [Recap]  
> Because I have been gone for two weeks: here's what happened last time.   
> \- Max moved in with her mom and shitty stepdad (ouch)  
> \- Everyone has siblings  
> \- Max is forced to sit next to Chloe on the bus to school  
> \- They hate each other  
> \- Wait  
> \- Not anymore  
> \- Things progress  
> \- They talk to each other now  
> \- Chloe gives her a stack of comics every day and sometimes a tape  
> \- Chloe brings the new issue of Watchmen to Max's house  
> \- They read it together   
> \- In a really gay way  
> \- Max's asshole stepdad is Mad
> 
> and that's what you missed on glee

**MAX  
** Her mom hovered in the doorway as she dressed.   
‘I know why you’re here,’ Max said as she ran a comb through her hair, ‘and I don’t wanna talk about it.’   
‘Just listen—’  
‘No. Don’t worry about it, mom. She’s not coming back.’   
‘You’re just so young _._ ’ said her mom, and Max felt her face heat up. _  
‘_ It’s not about that. And it doesn’t even matter, because it’s not _like_ that. I’m not like that.’   
‘Maybe you should tell that to _her_ , Max.’   
‘Mom _,_ stop _._ ’  
‘Is that really the type of person you hang around with at school?’ Vanessa crossed her arms.  
‘I don’t hang around with anyone at school.’ Max said flatly, gathering her books.   
‘I’m just worried about you. Let me worry about you.’ Her mom reached out, grabbing her arm before she could slip out the door. Max let her smooth down the collar of her jacket, but didn’t meet her eyes.   
‘You gave up your right to worry when you let Jeff kick me out onto the street.’   
Vanessa’s face momentarily flickered with hurt, and Max felt a pang of regret. Only for a second. Then she slipped out from underneath her mother’s cold hands and swung her backpack onto her shoulders. ‘This is about _him,_ not Chloe _._ ’  
‘He can be mean sometimes but he wants what’s best for you.’ said her mom. Max brushed past her, walking towards the front door. ‘And the rest of the kids. He has a good heart Maxie, you just… have to look past all the—’  
The door slammed shut behind her.   
  
_It’s not like that_ , Max thought as she walked to the bus stop that morning. And she felt like crying, because it’s true. It wasn’t like that. She swallowed hard and got on the bus.   
  
She must have looked mad when she sat down, because Chloe didn’t say anything for a while. She seemed nervous, picking at her nail polish. Max looked into the aisle.   
She felt Chloe tug on the ribbon Max had tied around her wrist, so she looked at her, probably frowning, but not meaning to.   
‘I’m sorry.’ Chloe said, meeting Max’s gaze.   
‘For what?’ Max said. Her heart was pounding. Nothing had really changed since yesterday, but it felt like it had. She felt like Chloe knew what Jeff had said, what her mother had thought. She felt like she could see right through her. She felt _dirty.  
_ Max looked away, trying to ignore the sting of her held-back tears. Being friends with Chloe was pretty much the only good thing in her life — and here she was, screwing it all up.   
Chloe tugged on the end of the ribbon again, and Max tried really hard not to cry — but she’d rather cry than look like she’d spent all of last night thinking about how beautiful Chloe’s lips were.   
‘Pretty sure I got you in trouble.’  
‘You didn’t.’ Max sniffed. She was sure Chloe could see the tears accumulating, because a little crease had appeared between her eyebrows.  
‘Caulfield. What are you thinking?’ Chloe asked. Max didn’t answer. She remembered her mom. _Knock knock knock_ on her skull. _Let me in, worry wombat._ There was a beat of silence. ‘Okay, well… what did you think of the comic?’ Chloe said tentatively. Max smiled a little.   
‘It was good.’   
‘Yeah?’   
‘Yeah. I’m glad you didn’t read it without me.’  
Chloe didn’t look up from her hand, still grasping the end of Max’s ribbon. ‘I didn’t want to read it without you.’   
Max was suddenly glad that Chloe wasn’t paying attention to her face, because if she were to look at her in that moment, she’d know everything. Her insides were all… gooey. Her heart had gone from feeling like it might explode to feeling like it might just melt away to nothing, and drip all down the front of her sweater. But Chloe didn’t look up. She twisted the ribbon round and round her fingers until there was only a inch left hanging between them, and then she slipped her hand into Max’s.  
_Drip, drip, drip,_ went her heart.   
  
**CHLOE  
** Her hand was there before she had time to consider the consequences of her actions. _Screw the consequences_.   
Max’s hand was warm and delicate, and Chloe couldn’t believe what she’d just done. It was like everything just kind of… fell into place. Like it would have always ended up this way somehow.   
  
She had dated before. She’d had boyfriends. She’d had… other things. Things that she was too afraid to deal with, so she kept them in the back of her mind, in her mental junk drawer, along with the _Kellogg’s_ jingle and her _Space Duel_ high score.   
Max’s hand was warm, and it was soft, and it was the only thing tethering her to the earth.   


**MAX  
** She sat completely still. She didn’t even want to breathe, because each moment that passed seemed so fragile that the slightest movement would shatter the whole thing. Chloe would let go, and she’d come tumbling back down to reality where she belonged.   
She was so conscious of everything. It was like her entire being was concentrated in her left hand, where Chloe’s skin touched hers. 

It was awesome.   
  
**CHLOE**  
Max was the first to let go when the bus arrived. Chloe quickly looked around in case anyone had seen, and then at Max, in case she had seen her looking. Guilt settled in her chest.   
Even if someone had been watching, what would they have seen? She took a breath as she stood, and warily eyed the kid from across the aisle. He glowered back.   
Chloe walked with Max all the way to her locker in silence, only realising when the buzz in her fingertips had faded that Max hadn’t moved at all. She’d just sat there. The whole time. She hadn’t even looked at Chloe. She _still_ hadn’t looked at her.  
Shit.   
‘Caulfield,’ Chloe said, as casually as she could.   
‘Price,’   
‘We okay?’   
Max nodded. ‘I’ll see you in English.’   
And then she walked away.   
  
**MAX**  
Max was on edge for the rest of the day. The good kind of edge. The kind that made her almost want to agree with Mr Stessman and his thoughts on true love.   
  
**CHLOE  
** Max wouldn’t look at her in English. Or History.   
Chloe had _royally_ fucked up. She went to Max’s locker after school, but she wasn’t there. Instead, she found her already on the bus, sitting where Chloe usually did. Her eyes were cast downwards. Chloe was too awkward to say anything, so she just sat in the aisle seat, letting her hands dangle between her knees…  
…Which meant that Max _really_ had to work to tug on Chloe’s wrist, to slip Chloe’s warm hand into her own. Max linked their fingers, not once looking up. She was shaking slightly; Chloe could feel the tremors.   
‘Okay?’ Max said softly. Chloe nodded. They both stared down at their hands.   
  
**MAX**  
Saturdays were the worst. She’d already done her homework for the weekend. She didn’t want to be _that_ kid, but she wished they’d get more sometimes. At least she wasn’t feeling each minute drag by when she was solving equations. She’d discovered that morning that some creep had written ‘do i make you wet’ on the front of her math book; it should have made her mad, but it didn’t. At least it gave her something to do. She spent a really long time trying to cover it up, and now it was a caterpillar. Sort of. If you squinted.   
Sundays were okay, because all she could think about then was that Monday was right around the corner. Saturdays though… they felt like they lasted weeks.   
It was like her brain went into overdrive trying to compensate for the spectacular lack of Chloe. She was pretty much all Max could think about.   
Max tried every weekend to readher comics slowly, but she’d always finish the entire stack by Saturday morning. And that was saying a lot, because Chloe always gave her extra on weekends. After she’d done that, she had a whole day of doing one of three things:   
1) Solitaire with Sophie  
2) Babysitting her siblings  
3) Rereading all of the comics Chloe had given her.   
  
She almost always chose option three, unless Jeff was home. Then she’d just hang around in the yard with Christopher, watching him line up his cars in the dirt like always. Sometimes she’d go on the swing, although it creaked ominously when she went too high, so she mostly settled for just sitting there and letting her mind wander.   
Yesterday, on the bus ride home, there was a fifteen-minute delay because of a tree that had fallen into the road.   
‘Wow.’ Chloe had said, smiling slightly. Max turned away from the window to look at her. She’d started sitting on the inside now, with her back against the wall. It made her feel safe.  
‘Wow, what?’ Max had asked. She could tell Chloe was about to say something dumb, because she was wearing the same expression that she used for puns.  
‘I can topple trees with my mind.’  
‘That’s a very limited mutation.’   
‘It’s useful. I get extra time.’ She said, tugging at the end of Max’s hair.   
‘I see. And what do they call you?’  
‘They call me the Timber Tipper.’  
‘Are you even trying?’   
‘I tried! Alliteration. See? Trying.’   
Max rolled her eyes good-naturedly. ‘So you’d read about the adventures of the Timber Tipper?’   
‘Only the issues that included her trusty sidekick, Maple Max.’ Chloe replied.   
Max had missed this. The back-and-forth. She liked holding hands with Chloe — like, she _really_ liked it — but it seriously cut down on their conversation time, which she liked just as much. When Chloe was touching her, it was like her brain short-circuited. Max never knew what to say, and when they _did_ start speaking, Chloe would stutter and trip over herself. Which meant Chloe liked her. _Ha._   
She pressed her palm against Chloe’s.   
‘Your hands are so small,’ Chloe had said.  
‘Your hands are so big.’   
  
Just thinking about her made Max’s stomach flutter. One more day. She kicked off on the swing, ignoring the squeak of rusted metal.  
  
**CHLOE  
** Saturdays were the worst. She was miserable sitting in the truck, and she’d never seen her dad get this frustrated.   
‘Chloe, you’re overthinking it. Just _go.’_ William said. He was a patient man, but Chloe was definitely pushing it.  
‘I _can’t_ , dad, or we’d be fucking going already.’   
‘Chloe, language.’ William warned. He’d been trying to teach her how to drive the pickup truck for what felt like hours. It had been approximately fifteen minutes, but nobody was counting. The dash clock was stuck on 07:12 anyway.   
‘I give up.’ Chloe said, reaching for the door handle. Her dad grabbed her arm.   
‘Not so fast. You wanna take the impala to school? You learn how to drive a stick-shift.’   
‘The impala is automatic, what’s the point?’  
‘It’s an important skill, Chloe! Try again. Clutch, shift—’  
‘—gas. Yeah. I got it.’   
The pickup died.   
‘Stop thinking. Just let it happen. Listen to the engine.’   
‘I can’t just _turn off my brain._ ’ Chloe said.  
‘Try again.’   
‘No. I’m done.’  
‘Well, I’m not driving us home.’   
‘Fine.’ She said, slipping out the door and starting to walk. She could have gone the short way, but that would mean passing her dad— or rather, her dad passing her. Besides, walking this way meant she could go past Max’s house. When she looked in the window, she couldn’t see Max. She did see a grey cat on the windowsill, and a young boy staring back out at her. He had Max’s eyes. Chloe carried on walking.   
Saturdays were the worst.   
  
**MAX  
** Mondays were the best. Max could almost skip to the bus stop. It was like as soon as she left the house, a switch flicked in her brain, and she was just _grinning_ the whole time, like a total maniac. She stared at the ground as she hurried to the bus stop, trying really hard to contain her excitement, but failing. And when she got on the bus, Chloe smiled at her. Actually smiled, the whole time she was walking to her seat, and then when she sat down.   
‘Hey.’ She said, bumping Max's shoulder with her own. Max had noticed that she did this a lot. Max had noticed that she liked it a lot, too.   
‘Hey.'  
‘Never thought I’d look forward to a Monday morning, but here I am.’   
‘You look good.’ Max said quietly. She wasn’t exactly well-versed in the way of compliments, but it was true. She was wearing that flannel that Max really liked, because when Chloe rolled up her sleeves like that she looked really cool, really hot, and _really_ out of Max's league.  
‘ _You_ look good.’ Chloe said.   
‘Shut up.’ Max smiled.  
  
By the time they had reached her locker, Max felt lighter, like she might float away. And when the bell rang, and they had to go separate ways, Chloe reached up and wrapped a lock of brown hair around her finger.  
‘Back to missing you.’ She said, letting go, and then she turned on her heel and walked away.  
  
When she entered homeroom, her teacher beckoned her to his desk.  
‘Mrs. Cooper wants to see you. You’ve got a pass.’   
Mr O’Neill pushed the laminated card across to her. Max took it with a sigh.  
Mrs Cooper was the counsellor, and generally these visits were to check how she was ‘settling in’, or make sure she wasn’t getting bullied, getting high, or getting pregnant. In other words, Max thought they were a total waste of time. Still, they were compulsory, so she went.   
She dragged her finger along the brick walls as she walked down the corridor, humming one of the [songs](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZyaK3jo4Sl4) from Chloe’s tapes.   
She was in such a good mood that she even smiled at Mrs Cooper when she walked in, much to her surprise.   
‘Max! You’re looking well,’ Mrs Cooper said, grinning. She was one of those people who was never _off_. Max sometimes wondered if she was a robot.   
‘Uh… thanks.’   
‘Not a meeting today, just letting you know that your dad called.’  
‘He did?’ Max was caught totally off-guard. Her dad _never_ called. Even when their phone worked.   
‘This morning, actually. He said he couldn’t reach you at home?’   
‘Oh, yeah…’ Max scrambled to find an excuse that sounded better than _Jeff didn’t pay the phone bill again._ ‘There’s been some trouble. With the lines.’ Max managed to stutter. _Good one, Max._  
Mrs Cooper nodded sagely. ‘I think I heard about that. Well, here’s his number if you want to call him back.’ She handed Max a post-it note as she stood up. 'Go ahead and use my phone, I’ll just wait outside.’   
‘Okay. Thanks, Mrs Cooper.’   
‘No problem. Dial nine first to make a call outside of school.’   
Max nodded, and then waited until she shut the door behind her before punching in the number.   
Waiting for her dad to pick up was terrible. She was weirdly nervous, and the ringing made her stomach churn. There was a click.   
‘Hello?’ Said her dad.   
‘Hi, dad. It’s Max.’   
‘Max! Hey, long time no speak, eh?’   
‘Yeah…’ Max trailed off.   
‘Sorry I called you at school, but I couldn’t find your house number.’   
‘Problem with the lines.’ Max answered again, hoping that her dad would buy it too. Fortunately, he didn’t seem to care.   
‘Ah. Anyways, I have a favour to ask of you.’  
‘What is it?’ Max said warily. She knew her dad only ever called when he needed something, but it didn’t make her feel any less disappointed each time.  
‘So Linda and I want to go out on Friday, but we need someone to babysit. Will you take care of Clara?’   
‘Uh…’ Max didn’t know what to say — she wanted to, _badly_. Not cause she particularly liked babysitting, or her dad, but because her dad had a TV and a record player _and_ a fully stocked fridge. She just didn’t want to upset her mom.   
‘I’ll pay you. How’s ten dollars?’   
Max deliberated for a second. ‘Can I use your phone?’   
‘Sure. So how about it, kiddo?’ Asked her dad. She could tell he was getting impatient.   
‘Alright.’ Max relented.   
‘Great. I’ll pick you up at six on Friday. Let your mom know for me, alright?’  
‘Okay.’   
‘See you later.’   
‘Bye.’ Max hung up.  
Mrs Cooper opened the door, smiling. Her entry was suspiciously well-timed — she had probably been eavesdropping.  
‘Need to make any more calls before you go? You’re welcome to use my phone whenever you like.’   
‘No thanks, Mrs Cooper. I should get to class.’   
‘See you next week for your meeting then!’ She chirped.   
‘Yep,’ Max smiled sweetly, hoping it wasn’t too fake, before leaving, tucking her dad’s phone number into her pocket as she went.   
  
**CHLOE**  
‘I am not going on a double date with Eliot.’ Chloe said, glaring at Nancy.   
‘Could you stop being the worst friend in the world for like, one second, please?’   
‘The answer is no.’   
‘This is my _only_ chance to go on a date with Cal. _Please,_ Chloe. He won’t come if Eliot’s not there, and Eliot won’t come unless you do. You’re my only bargaining chip.’   
‘Oh, so I’ve been demoted to bargaining chip now?’ Chloe said, not looking up from her English homework. They were sitting in the library because it was kind of cold outside, and they had nothing better to do.   
‘You’re impossible.’ Nancy huffed, crossing her arms and flopping back in her chair dramatically. The librarian shot a glance at them, so Chloe continued in a whisper.  
‘You’re the prettiest girl in school. You could date anyone.’   
‘Yeah, but I don’t want to date _anyone_ , I want Cal.’ She replied, twirling a lock of brown hair around her finger. She stuck her legs over the side of the armchair, and Chloe watched a vein pop out on the librarian’s forehead.   
‘Too bad. What’s wrong with Nick?’   
‘Nick is so… I don’t know. I’m over him.’   
‘Just like you will be over Cal.’ Chloe said, snapping her textbook shut and beginning to stand. Nancy pressed her hands together, begging, and looked up at Chloe like a lost puppy.   
‘Please?’   
‘No.’   
‘ _Please?’_  
Chloe sighed. ‘Fine. But if he tries anything I’m bailing. Are we clear?’   
‘Crystal. So… Friday, at eight? Possibly in the Impala…?’   
‘Oh, so I’m not only your bargaining chip, but your chauffeur. I see how it is.’   
‘Chloe…’ Nancy pleaded.   
‘Alright. Eight. You owe me one.’   
‘Yes!’ Nancy clapped, jumping up and hugging Chloe, ‘Thank you thank you thank you!’ Chloe watched the librarian storming towards them over Nancy’s shoulder. _Oops._   
‘We gotta split. Like right now.’ She said, ushering Nancy towards the door.   
  
**MAX**  
She was pretty much floating for the rest of the day. Conversations with her dad usually made her mad, but today her annoyance just rolled right off her. When Victoria and her groupies targeted her in dodgeball (which is literally a sport _made_ for bullying, like, come _on_ ) she felt weirdly okay about it. Like her skin was extra thick today.  
Chloe _missed_ her. Meaning Chloe liked her.   
  
When Max got home that night, she begged her mom to let her babysit. Only when she offered to give her mom the ten dollars did she agree. Max didn’t care about the money. She just wanted the chance to call Chloe without everyone listening in.   
  
The next morning, Max asked for Chloe’s phone number as Chloe tied and untied the ribbons around her wrist, turning them into complicated bows.   
‘What?’ Chloe laughed, looking up at Max in a mixture of surprise and amusement. ‘Max Caulfield is asking for my number?’   
‘God, I didn’t mean it like that. Forget it.’ Max said, pulling her wrist back.   
‘What _did_ you mean it like then? Cause I'll mean it like that when I give it to you.’ Chloe answered, groping in her bag for a pen. ‘Gimme your book.’   
Chloe took the first book from Max’s lap and uncapped the pen with her teeth, about to write when she noticed something scrawled in ugly letters.   
‘Why did you write that?’ Chloe said, pointing a blue fingernail at the words _suck me off_. ‘Is it a song title or something?’   
Max frowned. ‘I didn’t write it.’ She snatched the book back and clutched it to her chest, trying to ignore the redness creeping into her cheeks. It kind of hurt that Chloe actually thought she’d write that kind of thing.   
‘Then who did?’ Chloe asked.   
‘I don’t know.’ Max said flatly. She stared out the window.   
‘Hey,’ Chloe said, almost reaching out but then pulling her hand back. Max ignored her. It was one thing for Chloe to be sort of aware of the fact that she was _that_ girl. To actually witness it was totally different. It was embarrassing. As if Chloe needed another reason to not like her.   
‘Hey,’ Chloe said again, tapping her arm lightly. Max shook her head. Chloe waited a few more seconds before trying again.  
‘ _Max_ ,’   
‘What?’ Max said, still staring out of the window.   
‘How are you gonna call me if you don’t know my number?’   
‘Who said I was gonna call you?’ Max replied, still looking away. Chloe leaned against her, pressing her shoulder into Max’s.   
‘Don’t be sad because of me. It drives me crazy.’   
‘I’m never sad because of you.’   
‘Right. You’re just sad _near_ me a lot of the time.’   
Max finally turned to look at her. They were so close, Max could kiss her. She wouldn’t — at least, not on the bus — but it didn’t stop her heart from pounding all the same.  
‘I’m babysitting for my dad on Friday. I thought I could call you from his house.’ Max said. Chloe’s face lit up.   
‘Let me write down my number.’ she said, grabbing Max’s hand to write on the back of it.   
‘No!’ Max pulled her hand back. Jeff would flip if he saw it. ‘I don’t want… my mom to see it. Tell me instead. I’ll memorise it.’   
‘What if you forget?’   
‘I won’t.’   
‘But what if you do?’   
‘I _won’t,_ Chloe.’  
Chloe reached for Max’s book again. ‘I have an idea.’   
‘Hey!’  
‘Trust me.’   
After scribbling out the crude graffiti, she made a list.   
  
_MAX’S FAVOURITE SONGS:  
I Would Die _**_4_** _You  
Saved by _**_Zero_** _  
_**_2_** _of Hearts  
_   
‘These are definitely not my favourite songs.’ Max said, looking over her shoulder.   
‘Shut up. Let me work my genius.’ Chloe replied, resuming the list.   
_  
_**_1_** _moment in time_

_Mambo #_ ** _5_** _  
Route_ ** _66_** _  
_**_8_** _Ball  
  
_ ‘I can’t think of any more two songs.’ Chloe said, tapping the pen on her chin.   
‘Two of us.’ Max suggested.   
‘Two of us?’   
‘It’s a Beatles song.’   
‘Oh. That’s why I don’t know it.’ Chloe said as she wrote it down. She looked at her handiwork happily.   
‘Get it?’ She said with a grin.   
‘I get it.’ Max laughed, shaking her head. 

 

  
**CHLOE  
** Chloe couldn’t recall what she had thought when she first saw Max. Or rather… she could. She just didn’t like to think about it, because she had seen her just like everyone else did. _God_ , she had thought, _she’s just begging to be teased_. She remembered thinking it was bad enough that she was covered in freckles, that it was bad enough that her clothes looked like they had all been stolen from her grandmother’s basement and bargain bins at Goodwill. That she was an idiot for letting her sit down.   
If Chloe could go back in time and punch herself, she would.   
Sometimes, there’d be a flicker of doubt in her mind, though. Those were the times when she wanted to pull away from Max— when she heard other people whispering, or laughing a little too loudly on the bus or in the corridor. But then she was with Max again, and she couldn’t even contemplate letting her go. She couldn’t contemplate anything at all, except just… enjoying existing next to her, or touching her, or making her laugh. Doing whatever she needed to to make her happy. 

 

‘So you’re not coming.’ Nancy said. They were meant to be doing group work again, but group work with Nancy meant no work at all.   
‘Something came up.’ Chloe answered. She felt a little guilty, but not enough to change her mind.   
‘Something, meaning some _one_.’   
‘No. Some _thing._ ’   
‘We had a plan, Chlo,’ Nancy protested. She was doing her whiny voice again.   
‘No, _you_ had a plan. And it was a terrible plan.’   
‘Worst friend in the world.’ Nancy said.   
  
**MAX  
** Max was so nervous that she couldn’t even touch her lunch. Kate kept asking her if she was sick, if she needed to go to the nurse, if she wanted some water. The questions wouldn’t stop. Kate was nice, but she was… a bit much sometimes. At least you could tell she cared. It made a nice change.   
‘Am I annoying you?’ Kate asked worriedly when Max put her head on the table.   
‘No,’ Max mumbled, voice muffled, ‘I’m just tired.’   
‘What time did you go to sleep last night?’   
‘I don’t know. Late.’   
‘Okay, something is seriously bothering you. What is it?’ Kate pushed. She just. Kept. Pushing.   
Max sighed. ‘I’m babysitting for my dad tonight.’   
Which was true. But it was also not exactly what she was nervous about. Sure, she was a little worried about the whole thing, but it was mostly the phone call part of the thing. Which was ridiculous.   
‘Oh. I’m sure it will be fine.’ Kate said, placing a reassuring hand on Max’s arm.   
‘Thanks, Kate.’   
  
Chloe kept making her repeat the phone number.   
‘Chloe. I know your number already.’   
‘I’m just making sure.’ Chloe said. She was sitting with her foot up on the seat, leaving a muddy smudge on the vinyl.   
‘Trust me. It’s burned into my brain.’   
‘Good. Don’t forget.’   
‘I won’t!’ Max said. And she wouldn’t. She’d probably scream Chloe’s number on her deathbed.  
‘If you don’t call me tonight,’ she said,‘because you can’t remember my number…’   
‘I’ll give you my dad’s number then. If I don’t call by nine, you can call me. But no sooner. I mean it.’   
‘Yes. Good. _Great_ , actually.’   
Max handed Chloe the crumpled up post-it that Mrs Cooper had given her.   
‘I feel like…’ Chloe trailed off, looking down at the post-it, ‘I feel like we have a date. That’s stupid isn’t it?’   
There was a pause before Max replied.   
‘No. Not stupid.’   
Chloe smiled as the bus pulled up to Max’s stop. ‘Alright, alright,’ she waited til Max slid past her, then pushed her into the aisle.  
‘Hey!’ Max cried, steadying herself on the back of the seat.  
‘Go already! The quicker you go the quicker tonight will come.’   
‘I’m going, I’m going.’ Max shook her head. She wondered why Chloe was so excited, but then she realised— they could have a normal conversation. She could say everything she wanted to say. And nobody would hear it but Chloe. And possibly Max’s stepsister. But she was six.   
Max hurried down the steps, and all the way home.   
  
**CHLOE  
** A date. 

Practically. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HI, sorry I've been gone for two weeks. I've been busy, but I'm back on my bullshit and I wrote a double chapter for you. I'm posting it all in one go, but it's double the usual length. So, enjoy. 
> 
> Thank you for your comments :) They were like awesome birthday gifts. <3


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ring ring it's fluff calling
> 
> Phone date time. Buckle up. 
> 
> copy/paste this link for a look into my brain while writing this entire chapter  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TL0EoXdpOqg ;)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, sorry for my absence, more on that at the end. Optional reading, of course.  
> [Recap]  
> \- Max moved in with her mom and shitty stepdad (ouch)  
> \- Everyone has siblings  
> \- Max is forced to sit next to Chloe on the bus to school  
> \- They hate each other  
> \- Wait  
> \- Not anymore  
> \- Things progress  
> \- They talk to each other now  
> \- Chloe gives her a stack of comics every day and sometimes a tape  
> \- Chloe brings the new issue of Watchmen to Max's house  
> \- They read it together  
> \- In a really gay way  
> \- Max's asshole stepdad is Mad  
> \- [chanting] gay, gAY, GAY  
> \- Phone date?  
> \- Phone date. 
> 
>  
> 
> and that's what you missed on glee

**MAX**  
Max wasn’t sure what kind of car to look for. Her dad changed it up pretty much every month, and she hadn’t actually seen him in three years. He eventually pulled up in an old Karmann Ghia convertible, which didn’t really surprise Max. He’d always had a thing for old stuff.  
He didn’t get out, just beckoned her from inside the car, squinting against the sun with the top down. He probably didn’t want to see Christopher. Of course he didn’t.   
‘Hey kiddo,’ he said, once she slid into the passenger seat. It smelled like apple shampoo and mint, like always, and Max felt a wave of nostalgia.   
‘Hey.’   
‘Clara can’t wait to see you again.’ He said, starting up the car. Max seriously doubted that.   
‘Cool.’   
  
The wind rushed past her ears— it was late November, and he was speeding home with the top down.   
‘Can we put the top up?’ Max yelled, her hair blowing wildly around her. Her nose was red, and her eyes were watering.   
‘Haven’t fixed it yet!’ Her dad shouted back, laughing.   
He had lived in the same apartment since he’d moved out of the big house, her mom’s house, but it had changed a bit since Max’s first visit. Her dad only had two plates, two forks, no knives. A wine stain on the carpet. And she’d thought  _that_  was slumming it.   
Things had improved a lot since Linda had moved in. Now they had things like a wine rack, and little doilies on the coffee table, and a set of good cutlery that Max wasn’t allowed to use. They could go into the grocery store and pick stuff up,  _branded_  stuff, just because it sounded good.   
  
When they arrived, Linda was waiting at the door with Claire hiding shyly behind her. Linda smiled brightly.   
‘Hi, Maxie!’ She cooed. Max tried not to roll her eyes. Linda used her baby voice for everyone under twenty.   
‘Hi,’ Max answered weakly, giving a shy half-wave.  
‘You’ve gotten so big! Come here honey!’ Linda waved her over, giving Max an awkward, one-armed hug. Her perfume was cloyingly sweet; it made Max’s nose itch.  
“Claire, manners,” urged her mom, coaxing her out from the doorway.  
“Hi, Max,” Claire said quietly. She was staring at the ground.  
‘Well, we’d better get going, right, honey?’ Said her dad from behind her. Linda nodded, and passed Claire off to Max without so much as a pause.   
‘Bedtime at eight!’ Linda started to walk away, arm in arm with Max’s dad. ‘We’ll be back around ten!’ She called over her shoulder, her voice echoing in the corridor, her high heels clacking on the tiles. Then she was gone. Max let out a sigh.   
‘Just you and me now, huh?’ She said, smiling as nicely as she could manage. Claire started to cry.   
  
Max had gotten her to calm down, finally. They were watching some kids show, with little fuzzy puppet-type things that Max thought were a creepy, but Claire seemed to like them. She left it on, glancing over her shoulder every few minutes as she began to flip through her dad’s record collection. When she was a kid, she was never allowed to take them out of their sleeves, so she’d just sit and stare at the album art, and lay them out in order of best to worst. Now she was older, she was allowed to play them. Max didn’t want to play any just yet. If she tuned out the TV, everything was how it was before — she was six again, except she was in her not-house with her not-sister and her not-records. Max looked at the clock. 7pm. Soon she’d get to talk to Chloe. 

 

The first time the phone rang, Max was watching Claire brush her teeth while also digging around in the medicine cabinet. Would they notice if she slipped the children’s Tylenol in her bag?   
The noise made her almost drop the bottle, and then she realised that it was probably Chloe. Oh my god. It was probably Chloe. She let it ring out; Claire wasn’t asleep yet, and besides, it was only just past seven-thirty. Chloe was early, which Max had specifically told her not to be. She put Claire to bed, the minutes ticking by agonisingly slowly as she begged for another story, another one,  _again again again_. Finally she fell asleep, her still hand clamped on Max’s so that she couldn’t slip away without her noticing. Max carefully slid her hand out of Claire’s sleepy grasp and tiptoed back to the living room.

  
**CHLOE**  
“I’m home!” Chloe shouted, dropping her backpack at her feet and kicking her shoes off. Jennifer came clomping down the stairs.  
“Where’s dad?” She asked, catching her reflection in the hallway mirror and flicking her bangs into place with one finger. She didn’t even bother to look at Chloe.  
“Yeah, good to see you too, Jen.” Chloe brushed past her, eyes lingering for a second on the phone in the hallway. “By the way, I’m using the phone tonight.”  
“But Sarah was going to call!” Jennifer protested. She was using her whiny voice. Too bad that only worked on mom. Chloe shrugged.   
“Not my problem.”   
Jennifer rolled her eyes. “Why do you even need to use it? It’s not like you have any friends.”  
“I have friends.” Chloe snapped. “Besides, it’s for an… assignment. Group project.”  
“Assignment my  _ass._ You’re  _so_  lying. You won’t even look at me.” There was a pause as Jennifer scrutinised Chloe’s face, eyes narrowed.   
“You have a boyfriend.”   
“What?” Chloe tried really hard not to sound disgusted.   
“Oh my God. You have a boyfriend. I’m telling dad!”  
“I swear to God, Jennifer—”  
“What exactly will you be telling your father?” Joyce emerged from the kitchen, wiping her hands on her apron.  
“Chloe has a boyfriend.”   
“What? No I d—”  
“She does.” Jennifer interrupted. Joyce looked between the two of them and sighed.   
“Chloe’s seventeen. She’s allowed a boyfriend if she wants one.” Joyce took the clip out of her hair, allowing it to fall around her shoulders. Chloe hadn’t realised how grey her mom was actually getting these days. Joyce tucked the clip into her apron pocket before looking up at Chloe.   
“Actually, I did need to talk to you about something. Jennifer, don’t you have homework to do?” She said, ushering Jennifer further up the stairs. Jenny glared down at her sister as she climbed, sticking her tongue out when Joyce wasn’t looking. Chloe retaliated with her middle finger. She was sure Joyce noticed, but neither of them said anything, and that’s when she started to get worried. 

  
“What is it, mom?” Chloe asked, following her into the living room.   
“It’s just something I heard about at the diner. Sit down.”   
Chloe sat. She began to pick at her nail polish.   
“Nathan came in yesterday, while I was working. He said something about you.”   
“Mom, you know Nathan says a lot of shit that isn’t true, so if you’re worried—”  
“I’m not worried. Well, I s’pose I am, but not for the reasons you think.”  
“What?"  
“Chloe, are you dating that girl from the Douglas house?”   
Chloe looked up in surprise.  
“We’re just friends.” She answered flatly.  
“Alright, but be careful around her. Nathan told me that he saw you gettin’ into some trouble over that way.”  
“What trouble? I’ve only been to her house once, and it was for a school project.” Chloe lied. Nathan must have seen her little conversationat the door with Jeff. She made a mental note to yell at him when she next saw him.  
“I don’t like that family, Chloe. Jeff Douglas is mixed up in all sorts of things. Look, I know you’re… friends an’ all, I won’t try to stop that. All I’m saying is be careful. Okay?”   
“Okay, mom.” Chloe sighed, rolling her eyes as she stood up. “I’m going to my room now. Also I’m using the phone tonight.”   
“Sure, honey.” Joyce waited until Chloe had almost reached the hallway, and then spoke again.   
“What d’you need the phone for?”   
“Another project.” Chloe answered. She had to stick with her story now that she’d told Jennifer.   
“Ah, with the Douglas girl, I bet?”   
“The  _Caulfield_ girl. Her name is Max Caulfield. And yes.”   
“Alright sweetie. Are you sure you’re just friends? It would be alright if that weren’t the case—”  
“That’s exactly the case. Bye.” Chloe was glad she wasn’t facing her mom when she spoke, because her cheeks had flushed a vivid scarlet. She looked at the clock mounted in the hallway. 4pm. Only a few hours left. 

Max didn’t call during dinner, which was good, because that annoyed her mom. She didn’t call after, either. Chloe began to get restless. She paced the living room, the TV blaring in the background, until her dad told her to sit down.  
“What’s wrong, Chloe?” he asked.   
“She’s waiting for her boyfriend to call.” Jennifer answered, still staring at the TV, twirling her hair around her finger.   
“You have a boyfriend?”  
“No! Jennifer, shut up.”   
“Or maybe it’s her girlfriend. Sarah told me that her sister told her they  _you’re_  dating the weird girl from Seattle. I didn’t believe her at first, but then I heard you and mom talking…”  
“What the fuck? You were _spying?_ ”  
“ _Language_ ,” warned her mom.  
“Yeah? So?” Jennifer shrugged.  
“She’s not weird. And I’m not dating her.”   
“She’s weird.  _And s_ he’s obviously into you, she dresses like a  _total_  dyke bitch.”  
“Don’t call her that.” Chloe snapped. Her dad raised his eyebrows, but didn’t say anything.   
“What? It’s the truth.” She looked incredulously at Chloe, then at her dad.   
“If you ever call her that again, I swear I will kill you. I’ll kill you, and I’ll go to jail for the rest of my life, and it will break mom’s heart, but I will.” Chloe said angrily. Her dad was looking at her like she usually did, as if he was trying to figure out what the fuck was wrong with his daughter.   
“Jennifer, stop antagonising your sister.” Joyce said, before turning around in her armchair to face Chloe. “You,” she said, jabbing a finger, “bedroom. Now.”  
“But mom—”  
“You heard your mother.” Her dad said from the sofa. Jennifer turned back to the TV, but not before smiling sweetly at Chloe, knowing that she’d won this time.   
“Whatever.” Chloe huffed, stomping up the stairs loudly on purpose.   
  
As soon as she got to her bedroom, the phone rang. Chloe contemplated sprinting back down to get it, but that would be too suspicious. She let her mom answer.  
“Hello?” She could hear her say. There was a pause. “Yes, she’s here. One second.” Joyce called up the stairs. “Chloe! Phone for you!”   
  
Chloe slammed her bedroom door shut and answered her phone.  
“I got it mom. Thanks.” She waited for the click. 

 

It was just them. Alone. Finally.   
  
“Hey.” Chloe breathed.   
“Hey.”   
There was a pause. Max giggled.   
“What?” Chloe asked, picking up the phone and carrying it over to her bed. She flopped onto her back.  
“I don’t know. This is weird.”   
“It’s not weird.”  
“It feels like you’re whispering in my ear.”  
“I’m  _always_  whispering in your ear.” Chloe rested the phone on her stomach as she spoke.   
“Yeah, but usually about, like… Batman.”  
“I’m not gonna mention anything that we could talk about on the bus.”  
“And  _I’m_  not gonna mention anything I can’t say in front of a six-year-old.”  
“Nice.”

“I’m kidding. She’s sleeping.”  
“So,” said Chloe, turning onto her side, "Things we can’t say on the bus."  
“I hate those people.” Max laughed. Her voice was different on the phone. Good different.   
“Me too. Sort of. I’m used to them, I guess. Some of them are okay.”  
“Some of them?”   
“Well, Nancy is sweet. And… Nathan, actually.”  
“You’re friends with  _Nathan?_ ” Max said. Chloe could hear her raised eyebrows.   
“Yeah, since we were kids. He lives across the street. I guess he can be an asshole but… he’s nice. Sometimes. I don’t know, it’s hard to explain.”   
  
**MAX**  
She twirled the phone cord around her index finger. She was a little surprised that Chloe liked Nathan.  
“You’re too cool for Nathan.” Max said. Then she realised what she had said.  _Cool, Max? Really?_    
“I’m not cool,” Chloe answered, “you’re cool.”   
“I am so not cool.”  
“Are you kidding me? You’re like, the epitome of coolness. You don’t give a shit about what other people think.”  
“I give a lot of shits, actually.” Max answered. She pulled a U2 record out of its sleeve as they spoke.   
“I can’t tell. You just seem like yourself, all the time, no matter what anyone says.”   
“That’s…”  
“The truth.” Chloe finished.   
“Why are we talking about me? Let’s talk about you.” she said, placing the needle onto the record.   
“I don’t wanna talk about me.”  
“Too bad,” answered Max. She didn’t want to open that can of worms  _just_  yet.  
“So,” started Chloe, “Mystery Max is back.”   
  
CHLOE  
  
Max had an answer for everything. Usually, it wasn’t the answer that Chloe wanted, but she had a way of dodging things that was both charming and irritating. Chloe thought she’d make a good politician. Max wouldn’t talk about her family, or her house, or anything that happened after she got off the bus. Chloe was okay with that.   
“Where are you?” Chloe asked. It was getting late. Chloe rolled onto her side, the plastic casing of the phone digging into her ribs. It was uncomfortable, but at least she wouldn’t fall asleep this way.  
“Why?” Max asked.   
“Because I want to feel like I’m actually with you.”   
“I’m on the floor, in front of the stereo."  
“In the dark?"  
“Yeah.” Max answered. Chloe closed her eyes. She could see her, sprawled on the carpet.   
“Is that [U2](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cST0ruGpHi4)?” She asked. She could hear a faint tune coming through the receiver.   
“Yeah.”  
Chloe began to hum along, because she didn’t know what else to say.   
“You said you’ve never heard The Beatles?” Max asked after a few moments.   
“I haven’t.”   
“Hold on.” And then the line went silent. The music stopped, and then a guitar started playing. She could hear Max singing along to the riff. “Are you still there?” Max asked, picking the receiver back up off the ground.  
“Yep.”  
“[Listen](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Wsa-TRud1w4).” said Max. Chloe listened.   
_Oh I’ll… tell you something, I think you’ll understand…_  
“This is surprisingly okay.” Chloe said.   
_When I’ll… say that something, I wanna hold your hand…_  
She could hear Max singing along. She was actually pretty good. Surprisingly good. But maybe Chloe was biased.   
“What’s your favourite part of the song?” she asked Max, still listening to the voices in the background and thinking about holding Max’s hand.   
“The chorus. For sure.” Max replied.   
“Me too.”   
  
**MAX**  
Chloe said her name. Twice. Max blinked.   
“Are you there?”   
“Yeah,” Said Max.  
“What are you thinking?”  
“I’m not thinking. I’m just lying here.” Max rolled onto her stomach.   
“Not thinking in a good way, or a bad way?”   
“I don’t know,” said Max, resting her head on her hands, “both.”  
There was a beat of silence. Max could hear her own heartbeat. She could hear Chloe’s breathing. It was the kind of silence that she rarely got to enjoy at home, and she relished it.   
“I miss you.” Max said.   
“I’m right here.”  
“Yeah, but you’re not  _here_. I wish you were here. Or I was there. I wish there was some way I could see you or be alone with you or ever talk like this again after tonight.” Max realised she was holding back tears.   
“Why can’t there be?” Chloe asked. Max laughed, sniffing. “Max…”  
“Don’t say my name like that. It just makes it worse."  
“Makes  _what_  worse?”  
“Everything.” Max mumbled into the carpet.   
Silence.   
“Did you have any pets before you moved here?” Chloe asked. She was good at that— changing the subject whenever Max got irritated or upset.   
“I had a rabbit. She was called Thomas."  
“ _She?”_ Chloe said. She was smiling. Max could tell.   
“Yeah, the pet store thought she was a boy. Then she had 5 babies.” Max laughed, and wiped her tears away with her sleeve.    
“Max… why can’t I see you?”   
“Chloe, I just stopped crying."  
“Talk to me.”  
“Because…” Max paused, “because my stepdad would kill me.”   
“Why does he care?”   
“He doesn’t. He just wants to kill me. Besides… you know how people can be.”  
“I don’t give a shit what people think.”   
“ _I_ give a shit. We can’t, Chloe.”  
“Why?”   
“We just _can’t_. I’m already in enough trouble, Chloe.”   
“What trouble?”   
“Just… trouble. Can we not talk about this? Please?”  
“You told me you missed me, like, three seconds ago, and now you’re mad again.” Chloe said. She sounded frustrated. The last time Max had heard her like this was the first day on the bus, when she yelled at her. _Jesus-fuck, just sit down._    
“I’m not mad at you, Chloe. I’m never mad at you.”   
“It sounds like you’re mad at me.”   
“I’m not. I’m just…” she sighed. Neither of them spoke for a while.  
“You can ask me anything.” Chloe eventually said.  
“Okay.”  
“I swear I’ll answer.”   
Max paused for a second, looking at her face reflected back to her in the acrylic top of the record player. “Why do you even like me?”   
  
**CHLOE**  
Chloe was a little taken aback. She felt her face flush, but started to speak anyway.   
“You’re the coolest fucking person. We like all the same stuff. And you make me laugh, and I feel like I can say shit to you that I can’t really say to anyone else. And I’d love to say that those are the reasons that I like you, because then I’d seem intellectual and shit, but also I think your freckles are pretty and your eyes are like… not even blue they’re more than blue, like, there needs to be a new colour invented just to describe them. Also you smell like an entire field of vanilla. You’re just… good. Among other things.” Chloe took a breath. Her face was burning. “I just wanna hang out with you all the time. I don’t know… I’m bad with this kind of thing.”  
She waited for Max to laugh, or say  _what movie did you steal that from?_  but she didn’t. All she heard was Max taking a shaky breath. “You could ask me why again,” said Chloe, “but I don’t know. I just know that I do.” Max didn’t answer.   
“Say something so I don’t feel stupid.” said Chloe.  
“You’re not stupid."  
“I feel stupid."  
“Ask me why I like you.” said Max.   
“Why do you like me?” she smiled, pressing the receiver closer, pressing Max’s voice closer.   
“Chloe…” Max said. She was so quiet, but in the dark, staring out of her window with the phone digging into her ribcage, quiet seemed appropriate. Like all of this was a secret. It was theirs, and nobody else’s. Finally, Max spoke.  
“I—”

 

Chloe waited. 

  
And waited. 

  
“I can’t do this."   
“You are so mean, Caulfield. Why?”   
“It’s embarrassing.”  
“So far, only for me. Spill.”  
“What if I say too much?”  
“You won’t.”  
“What if I tell you the truth?”  
“What if I want to hear it?” Chloe let the question hang between them for a few seconds.  
“Sometimes I feel like you’re the only good thing in my life.”  
Chloe curled up on her side. Her heart was fluttering inside her chest. Max could probably hear it.   
“On a Monday morning it’s like I haven’t taken a breath in like sixty hours and that’s why I’m difficult to be around, and I’m sorry. I think about you all the time,  _all_  the time, but then when I’m with you I just panic, because every second seems so important and I can’t waste them. And then I end up wasting them. And I’m sorry for that. It’s just so… outside of my control, it’s like, what if you decide that you don’t want me around anymore?”  
 Chloe didn’t say anything. She just lay on her bed, words echoing in her head.   
“I can’t believe I just said that.” Max whispered, “I didn’t even answer your question.”   
  
**MAX**  
She ran her fingers over the soft velvet of the couch cushions.   
“Remind me again. Why can’t I see you?” Chloe said quietly, playfully.  
“Because it’s dark. And you’re at least fifteen miles away.” Max said sarcastically.   
“You know what I meant.”   
“Because my stepfather will kill me. He already thinks I’m a  _dirty queer_. His words, not mine.” Max said, and then regretted saying.   
“He can’t do anything about it.” Chloe said defiantly.   
“Last time we… disagreed, he kicked me out for a year.”   
“Damn. Okay, we can meet at the park.”  
“My siblings will tell on me."  
“We can meet at my place, then."  
“That will never work. You want me to meet your parents?” Max said. It wouldn’t work. Would it?  
“They’re cool. And my mom’s an  _awesome_  cook.”   
Max heard footsteps in the corridor. She looked at the clock. 11.30pm.   
“Shit,” she said, “I think my dad’s home. I never told you why I like you.”   
Chloe laughed.  
 “Um, okay,” said Max, “you’re hot. And unexpectedly sweet.”  
“You know it.”   
“You have pretty hair, and you look like you stepped out of MTV. You have piano hands.”  
Keys rattled against the lock. Her dad was probably drunk. Max’s words came tumbling out.   
“When you wear that one shirt I can’t think about anything else for the rest of the day, also you have pretty eyes and when you smile I can’t  _not_  smile because it makes me happy. You make me happy.”  
“Max?” Her dad called, quietly, in case she was sleeping.   
“Max, wait—”  
“Bye, Chloe.” She whispered.   
“Bye. I love you.”   
Her dad came into the hall, Linda giggling behind him.   
“Are you sleeping, kiddo?”  
Max put the receiver down and pretended that she was. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, sorry I've been gone! Winter just... hit me like FUCK YOU. Weddings, exams, flu, Christmas, flu, being broke, new years, more flu, birthdays, classes, UCAS can suck my toe,  
> free time? what's free time????? I haven't seen the sun in 84 years
> 
> But I'm back. The wait won't be so long this time (but no guarantees). Thank you for your patience! I am but a mere human with human problems that must be addressed as an when they arise. Unfortunately.  
> Love to everyone who leaves me comments and kudos! You have kept me living through these trying times.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Notes:  
> Hi, sorry for my absence. Here's a recap since it's been millennia.  
> [Recap]  
> \- Max moved in with her mom and shitty stepdad (ouch)  
> \- Everyone has siblings  
> \- Max is forced to sit next to Chloe on the bus to school  
> \- They hate each other  
> \- Wait  
> \- Not anymore  
> \- Things progress  
> \- They talk to each other now  
> \- Chloe gives her a stack of comics every day and sometimes a tape  
> \- Chloe brings the new issue of Watchmen to Max's house  
> \- They read it together  
> \- In a really gay way  
> \- Max's asshole stepdad is Mad  
> \- [chanting] gay, gAY, GAY  
> \- Phone date?  
> \- Phone date.  
> \- Who loves Max? Chloe. She said so herself
> 
> And that's what you missed on Glee

**MAX**

Would things be different now?  
  
Max was apprehensive as she climbed onto the bus. Her palms were all sweaty.  
  
She’d never lied to her mom before, but this morning she told her that she might be going to a friend’s house for dinner.  
“What friend?” Vanessa had asked. Jeff looked over the top of his newspaper, eyebrows raised.   
“Victoria.” Max said. It was the first name she could think of. She hoped Jeff, having lived in this town his entire life, didn’t know the Victoria she was talking about — no way would he believe that  _she_  would be friends with Max.  
Jeff went back to reading.   
“It’s nice you’re making friends here,” said her mom, clearing away her plate. When Max brushed past her, she took the Tylenol she’d stolen from her dad’s place out of her pocket and pressed it into her mom’s palm. If Jeff saw, he’d probably flip the table, so she tried to keep it discreet. He didn’t like getting help from other people. Her mom slipped it in her pocket, face expressionless as she stared at Max.   
“Have fun at dinner tonight, Max. Not too late, okay?”  
Max shrugged. “Sure, mom.” This was her reward — her relationship with her mom was pretty much just transactional now. Max was okay with it.  “Bye!” she called over her shoulder, heading out onto the street. 

Chloe was leaning against the window when Max got onto the bus. She had her eyes closed, and in the sunlight her skin looked almost translucent. And they called  _Max_  a ghost.   
“Hey,” said Max, waiting for Chloe to notice her. Chloe’s eyes flickered open, and she stood up slowly to let Max slide into the window seat.  “Tired?”   
“Yeah. That was the longest weekend of my life.”   
“Same.” Max dropped her bag at her feet with a thud. She pulled a tape out of the front pocket of her backpack and passed it to Chloe.   
“What’s this?” Chloe asked, turning it over in her hands.   
“Only the greatest songs ever written.” Max replied. Chloe looked at the label on the tape.  _The Beatles._  
“Thanks,” Chloe smiled slightly. Just enough that her eyes crinkled at the sides. Just enough to make Max’s heart flutter. “You’re still coming tonight, right?” Chloe asked, frowning.  **  
** They both instinctively slid a little lower in their seats, away from Victoria’s suspicious stare.   
“Yeah. I’m kind of excited, actually. But I also want to puke. Your mom is terrifying.”   
“She’s alright. She’ll like you, I know it.” Chloe said. Her eyes flickered away from Max, back to the outside world. Traffic.   
“You don’t sound too sure about that.” Max started tolean into Chloe’s side, and then remembered where she was. She sat up straighter.  
“I’m sure.” Chloe said, looking back at Max, taking her hand. Max blushed. She was so casual about it.   
“Does she even know I’m coming?” Max asked, turning to look at Chloe.   
“Yes,” Chloe said. There was a pause. “no. But she’ll be fine with it, I’m allowed to have friends over. My mom only has one rule: if I have  _boys_  over, I have to keep the door open.”   
“ _Boys?_ ” Max teased, bumping her shoulder into Chloe’s.   
“Well, probably girls too, now. She definitely thinks I’m… Anyway, it’s Jennifer’s fault. Sorry she ruined that opportunity for you.” Now it was Chloe’s turn to tease. Max’s face burned.   
“Shut up, Price.” Max muttered, withdrawing her hand.    
“You walked into that one.”

**CHLOE**

Chloe was, for the first time, not worried about leaving Max when she got off the bus. She’d see her in a few hours anyway. She was more worried about worsening the whole Jennifer thing. If she brought Max home —  _when_  she brought Max home — it would be like admitting that she was… well, a giant lesbian. She’d think about that later. 

Her classes passed without incident. For most of the day, she daydreamed about the endless possibilities of a real, actual, sort-of date (was it a date? Could one truly classify anything where family is present as a  _date?)._ And for once on the bus ride home, Chloe didn’t feel like she had to soak up as much of Max as possible before she saw her again, because Max didn’t get off at her usual stop. That’s when Chloe realised that her palms were sweating, so she unlaced her fingers from Max’s and let her hand rest on Max’s thigh instead. It was different. It was nice. She couldn’t help but glance around every few seconds though, in case someone saw. She made eye contact with the annoying kid opposite more than once. Thankfully, he didn’t look down.  
  
They got off the bus with most of the other kids. A lot of the  _cool_  people liked to hang out in Nathan’s garage after school. Max and Chloe hung back a bit as the others dissipated in groups of twos and threes, laughing loudly and shoving each other.  
“I’m sorry I look so dumb today.” Max said, looking down at her giant sweater and her green ribbons and the chipped glass flower she had pinned to her jacket. Her backpack was hanging on one arm.  
“You look like you always look.” Chloe said. She reached out to grab Max’s bag, but Max pulled away.   
“I always look dumb?”   
“That’s not what I meant.” Chloe laughed. She tried to to take the bag again, but Max didn’t let her.   
“It’s what you said,” Max muttered.   
Chloe wanted to ask her not to be mad right now. Like, any time but now. Max could be mad at Chloe all day tomorrow for no reason, if she wanted to.   
“Max,” Chloe sighed, reaching for the backpack again and missing.  
“You sure do know how to make a girl feel special,” Max said.   
“I never claimed to know anything about romance.” Chloe said. Max wasn’t _mad_ mad, because she was sort of smiling. It was the thing that she did when she didn’t  _want_  to smile but couldn’t quite help it. Good.  _And hey_ , Chloe realised,  _decoding Max’s weird emotions was getting kind of… easy_.   
“That’s not what I heard,” Max said, and Chloe found herself back in the present, “I heard that you have  _boys_  in your room. Boys  _plural._ ”   
“I did,” Chloe said, “but they did not teach me anything about romance.” 

They reached the porch. Max looked like she might bolt. Chloe wanted to take her hand, just to tether her to something solid until she’d crossed the threshold.   
“I meant that you don’t look any different from how you usually look,” Chloe said, “which is good, because you always look nice.”  
Max rolled her eyes. “We both know that  _this,_ ” she said, gesturing to herself, “is not nice.” Max made air quotations around the word ‘nice’, as if her disparaging tone/withering stare combo wasn’t enough.  
“I like the way you look.” Chloe said indignantly. She was half-whispering, in case her mom was on the other side of the door.   
“I don’t look nice.” Max whispered back.  
“Fine. You dress like a hobo.” Chloe said.  
“Oh really?” Max started to smile.  
“Like you just joined the cast of G _odspell._ ”  
“I don’t know what that is.”  
“It’s terrible.”   
“And you love it?” Max said.   
“And I love it.”   
Chloe fumbled with her keys for a second, and then opened the door. It creaked ominously. Or maybe that was just her imagination.    
“Let me just tell my mom you’re here.” Chloe said, before stepping inside and leaving Max an anxious mess on her front step.   
  
“Mom,” Chloe called, striding down the hall, “Mom!”   
“I’m in here!” she heard her mom from the kitchen. The radio was playing; Joyce was humming along as she washed the dishes. Her right foot was tapping against the linoleum.  
“Uh, Max is coming in a few minutes. So just… be cool.” said Chloe. Joyce stopped washing.   
“Max? As in the Douglas girl?”  
“Caulfield. And Yes. Be cool.”   
“I’m cool.” Said Joyce, waving Chloe away with a soapy hand. “Now, don’t leave her standin’ there on the porch.” 

Chloe opened the door.  
“Come in,” she said, stepping to the side. It was weird and formal and Chloe wondered why she suddenly couldn’t speak normally. Max stepped inside, looking like she was going to throw up everywhere.   
“I hate meeting new people.” she whispered.   
“You’ll be fine.” Chloe whispered back with a smile. She walked into the kitchen and hoped Max would follow her. 

“Mom, this is Max.” Chloe said. Max waved shyly.  
“Max! It’s so nice to finally be able to put a face to that name. We’ve heard so much about you!”   
“Oh, um… it’s nice to meet you too, Mrs Price.” Max looked at the floor, and then back to Joyce.   
“Please, it’s Joyce. You kids want anythin’? Snacks? Pop? I’m making dinner for Jen when she gets home from dance class, you can—”  
“We’re good, thanks, mom. We’re just gonna go study.” Chloe said, ushering Max out of the room.   
“Okay honey, just leave the door open!”   
Damn. That meant her mom  _totally_  knew. 

 **MAX**  
  
Max’s heart was beating so quickly she thought she might pass out. It was like a small hurricane in her chest.   
“I hate meeting new people,” she said again, once they were safely up at least four stairs. Chloe looked over her shoulder.   
“Why?”  
“Because they never like me,” Max replied, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. Which it kind of was.  
“I liked you.” Chloe said.   
“No, you didn’t. I wore you down.” They reached the top of the stairs.   
“I like you now,” Chloe said, snaking an arm around Max’s waist. Her heart sped up again — they’d never been this close, and so  _casually_ ,  _God_. Max hoped Chloe couldn’t feel her heartbeat. She wriggled away. Chloe frowned.  
“I have to go.” Max said, taking a step down the stairs.  
“Max, you just got here.” Chloe scowled, and Max felt a chill pass over her. She folded her arms across her chest.  
“I know, but…”  
“It’s like you decided you’d hate this before it even happened. You won’t even give it a chance!” Chloe whisper-shouted. Her mom wasn’t totally out of earshot.  
“I don’t fit into your life. I mean, _look_ at your house.” It was pristine. Fresh flowers on the console table, doilies, little glass grapes in ceramic bowls on the windowsills.“I’m just this weird girl from a shitty family who doesn’t belong here. And I’m leaving, Chloe. ”  
“Fine.” Chloe said flatly. She didn’t look at Max as she ushered her back down the stairs and out the front door.  
“Leavin’ so soon honey?” Joyce called from the kitchen.  
“Yeah,” Max answered, “I don’t feel so good.” This wasn’t entirely a lie.  
  
Max walked around the neighbourhood for a few hours, until it had been long enough to have had dinner at a friend’s house, like she had said she would. She did end up going to bed hungry, though.

**CHLOE**

Max was already there when she arrived, glaring out of the window. The air was frosty around her as she gave Chloe the literal definition of a cold shoulder. Chloe sat down beside her with a heavy sigh, announcing her presence without announcing her presence, and then folded her arms. Max wanted to play it like this? Fine. Chloe had reasons to be chilly too. 

They passed the entire half-hour drive in total silence. It seemed to take longer than usual. Chloe would occasionally glance Max’s way. Max also glanced at Chloe — she knew, because she had caught her. Max stopped looking after that. It wasn’t until they arrived that the silence was broken. 

They were filing off the bus, and had just made it onto the pavement, when Nathan started to jeer.   
“Hey,” he said, shoving Max so she stumbled a little. Max kept her head down and continued walking.  
“I said,” Nathan paused as he moved in front of Max, “hey, you dyke bitch. Where are your manners? It’s impolite to ignore someone.”  
Max stared at the ground. Chloe felt herself moving before she had processed anything at all.  
“What the fuck did you just say, Nathan?” Chloe spat. Nathan looked up in shock, which quickly turned into a sneer.  
“You mean the part where I called your girlfriend a dyke bitch, or the part where I call _you_ a dyke bitch?”  
Someone snickered. Probably Victoria. People were starting to gather — Chloe Price versus Nathan Prescott? Nobody wanted to miss that.  
“Watch your _fucking mouth—_ ”  
“Or what?” Nathan said. He had forgotten about Max almost entirely. He sauntered up to Chloe, close enough that she could feel his hot breath on her face. “What are you gonna do, Price?”  
Chloe didn’t answer. Instead, she swung her fist and hit him square in the jaw. Nathan recoiled, staggering backwards. The crowd jeered. Chloe shook her hand, already feeling the bruises forming on her knuckles. Nathan laughed.  
“Is that all?” he shook his head, smiling joylessly. “You know something? I didn’t believe the rumours until now. Everyone told me that you were a fucking _queer—”_ he spat blood onto he pavement, “and I didn’t believe them. I thought you were better than that. I thought _no, no way, not Chloe Price. Not the girl that I grew up with._ But they were right. You _are_ a queer.” By the time he had finished his speech, he was close enough to hit Chloe. Which is exactly what he did. He slapped her, in front of everybody, which was somehow worse than a punch.  
  
The small group around them had become a veritable pack, all clamouring for blood. They hissed as Chloe clutched her stinging cheek.  
“You can’t hit girls, man.” Someone called from the audience. Nathan laughed.  
“You can if she’s a homo,” someone called back. That got a laugh. Nathan swung again, his fist slamming against Chloe’s jaw. She was bleeding, she could taste it. Chloe looked up at Max, who caught her eye. She was crying. She also looked… scared. For her, or of her?  
Rage ignited in her chest.  
“Leave… my… girlfriend… alone.” Chloe breathed, head still reeling from the punch. Chloe swung her fist again, hitting Nathan square in the nose. There was a sickening crack as her fist made contact.  
“Miss Price! That’s quite enough, thank you.” A loud voice boomed from across the courtyard. Principal Wells forced his way through the crowd. “You, you, you and you, my office, now.”

Chloe couldn’t stop her leg from bouncing as she waited, slouching on the uncomfortable bench in the front office. The secretary glared at her over her cat-eye glasses. Chloe wanted to yank them off her stupid, sour face.   
“Can you stop that?” Nathan barked from across the room. He was holding an icepack to his nose, his head tipped back. It made Chloe feel a little better to see the blood that had dried down the front of his shirt.  
“Suck my dick, Nathan.” Chloe said. She definitely wasn’t going to stop tapping now. She looked over at Max. Her hands were clasped in her lap. She hadn’t looked up in ten minutes.  
“Was that for me,” Max finally said, “or for you?”  
Silence. Chloe somehow began to feel a creeping guilt.  
“You didn’t have to save me.” Max muttered. Annoyance pricked in her chest.  
“But I did.”  
“I don’t need some X-Men hero, Chloe. Why couldn’t you just let it go?”  
“Because I love you.” Chloe said it fiercely, because it was true, she did. Also, now that she had said it once… well, it was like the floodgates had opened.  
“If you loved me then you’d be able to see that you hitting Nathan fixed _nothing_. You made it exponentially worse, actually.” Max finally looked up. Her face was streaked with tear tracks. Chloe sighed. She was debating admitting to Max that she did also hit Nathan for her own selfish reasons when she was called into the Principal’s office.

Her mom was so mad that she wouldn’t come and collect her. They had to call Chloe’s dad at work. The school nurse had said that she’d be fine, but she could feel a black eye beginning to form. If she thought about it too much, she could still feel his hand on her cheek. 

The drive home was silent.   
“Your mom is going to hit the roof when she sees you. She was at your grandma’s house, crying.”  
“It was just a few punches, dad.” Chloe said quietly.  
“Don’t say that when you arrive. She’ll kill you.”

It was true, Joyce was furious. They were sitting at William’s parent’s house, which was next door to their own. Joyce was fuming at the kitchen table.   
“Chloe Elizabeth Price,” said Joyce. _Uh-oh, full name._ Her grandma interrupted.  
“Now dear, she’s had a hell of a day. Harold, get the girl a steak, would you?” She inspected Chloe’s face. Chloe tried not to wince when she poked and prodded, as grandmas do. It was with the best intention.  
“I’m not wasting a steak on that.” said her grandfather, who returned with some Tylenol and a glass of water.  
“No more fighting,” Joyce said.  
“Joyce… it was one fight. Go easy on her, she was sticking up for some girl getting picked on.”  
“She’s not just some girl,” Chloe snapped, “she’s my girlfriend.” Chloe hoped, anyway.  
There was a collective breath drawn in, and a beat of silence. The football match that her grandfather was watching in the background droned on.  
“Is it the Douglas girl?”  
“Her name is Max Caulfield, mom. Caulfield.”  
“No more girlfriend,” said her mom, folding her arms, “you're grounded.” 

**MAX**

Three days without Chloe, and Max already wanted to curl up beside Muffin on the top bunk and never leave her blanket cave again. It was like the outside world was somehow more bearable when Chloe was around to make fun of it, and now she wasn’t and Max hadn’t noticed until now how much Chloe really shielded her from everything. Including Nathan, which in retrospect, she was grateful for. She shouldn’t have been mad. In fact, she should have been mad even _before_ that. Max had spent a lot of time regretting the past week of her life since she’d had nobody to distract her from it all.  
  
If that wasn’t bad enough, her home life had pretty much imploded after the Nathan thing. Jeff didn’t care, except for the fact that people thought his stepdaughter was a lesbian. He was getting shit for it at the bookies, apparently. Her mom was furious.  
“You were _fighting?_ At _School?_ Maxine what were you thinking? You know we can’t afford that kind of trouble in this house. Think of the example you’re setting for Maisie. I knew that your little _friend_ would get you into trouble like this. I don’t want you seeing her anymore, you hear me?” Vanessa was furiously putting plates and cups away, slamming cupboard doors as she talked. Jeff was at work. It was the only time that she ever made noise.  
“Mom, I wasn’t even fighting. It was Nathan. I didn’t _do_ anything, I swear.”  
“I don’t want to hear it, Maxine. Go to your room.”

The following days passed in a terrible grey blur. Lonely bus ride, classes, lonely bus ride, dinner, homework, sleep. It was exhausting. She was nervously anticipating the day that Chloe would come back. They hadn’t really made up, but Chloe wouldn’t still be mad. Would she? 

When Max rang the doorbell, a gentle-looking man answered. It was hard to believe that he was Chloe’s dad, but the more she looked, the more she could see the similarities. 

“Hi,” she said nervously, “I go to school with Chloe. I have her books?” William was smiling widely. It was kind of creeping her out.   
“Are you Maxine?”  
“Max.”  
“Max, right. One second.” He said, and then left the door open. She could hear him talking to Joyce in the kitchen.  
“Come on, Joyce. Just for a few minutes.”  
“Fine.” Joyce replied, coldly. William came back.  
“Come in, you can give them to her yourself. I’m sure she wants to see you.”  
_Don’t be,_ thought Max.

“Hey, Sugar Ray,” said Chloe’s dad as he knocked on her door, “someone’s here to see you.”  
Max entered somewhat sheepishly. Chloe’s room was, quite frankly, a mess. Posters everywhere, graffiti on the walls. She didn’t even have a sheet on her mattress. Max gasped when she saw her face. It looked so much worse than it had before. Everything was purple, or yellow, or swollen. She wanted to cry. Or to kiss her. Both were good. 

She sat down beside Chloe on the mattress. It was weird, seeing her like this.   
“I’m sorry,” said Max before Chloe could speak. “I… thank you for standing up for me.” Chloe’s expression remained unchanged. Max’s heart began to flutter anxiously. Was she breaking up with her? She wouldn’t blame her, if she was.  
“Did I ruin everything?” Chloe said softly. Her voice was a lot more shaky than Max had expected. Her heart broke a little.  
“Every-what?”  
“Every-us.” Chloe replied. Max put her hand on top of Chloe’s.  
“No way. You ruined your face though.”  
Chloe sighed. “Sucks.”  
“It’s okay. You were too cute for me anyways.” Max said with a smile.  
“You think I’m cute?”  
“Of course.” There was silence for a while, but it wasn’t like their frosty bus silence. It was comfortable.  
“They’re still going to tease me,” Max said, eventually, “but you can’t punch people every time someone says I’m weird or ugly. Promise me you won’t try.”  
Chloe looked like she was about to protest, but she must have changed her mind because she replied with “I promise.”  
“Because I don’t care about any of it. It doesn’t matter. If you like me… that’s enough.”  
Chloe smiled. “How many times do I have to tell you that I don’t like you…”

Although school was miserable, nobody bothered her. She did find more crude scribbling on her exercise book, but she ripped off the cover and threw it in the trash. She could afford another brown paper bag.   
  
On Monday morning, when Max got to her bus stop, Chloe was already there, waiting for her.

**CHLOE**

Her eye went from purple to green to yellow. She was still grounded. 

“How long am I grounded for?” She asked her mom over breakfast.   
“indefinitely.” Joyce replied, pouring her cereal. Chloe sighed.  
“Until you’re sorry about the fight.” Called William from over his newspaper. He was sitting at the kitchen table with Jennifer.  
“I _am_ sorry.” Chloe said. She wasn’t.

Somehow, punching Nathan in the face had made their bus rides even better. Nobody even looked at them now. Sure, people talked, she knew that much, but not to their faces. Never to their faces.   
“It was pretty hot, actually.” Max admitted one morning with a laugh.  
“I should get into fights more often.”  
“No. Please don’t.” Max answered. She seemed to smile a lot more these days. It made Chloe happy.  
“So…” Chloe said, “I was thinking,”  
“Oh no,”  
“I was thinking… I want you to come back to my house.”  
Max looked shocked. “But you’re grounded.”  
“Yeah…”

“Dad, how long am I grounded for?” Chloe asked. It was almost Christmas break, and that would mean three weeks without seeing Max.  
“Until your mother says you’re not.” Replied her dad without looking up from the car engine. “Spanner, please.” He held out his hand expectantly. Chloe put the spanner in it.  
“Mom says forever.”  
“Then I guess it’s forever.”  
“Dad…”  
“I’ve got an idea. You can be ungrounded as soon as you learn to drive stick-shift. Then you can drive your girlfriend around wherever you want.”  
“What girlfriend?” said her mom. She was in the living room, but they had left the garage door open.  
“Hey, honey. I told Chloe I’d unground her if she learned how to drive.”  
“I can drive, dad.” She growled.  
“Can you drive stick-shift? No.” William said, turning back to her mom.  
“No way. You’re grounded until you stop thinking about that Caulfield girl. Everyone keeps telling me she’s trouble.” Joyce had moved into the doorway now, where she was standing with her arms crossed.  
“Mom, is this really about her? Or is it about me?” Chloe said. She pushed her hair out of her eyes, leaving a black grease mark on her forehead. She saw Joyce’s hand twitch, maybe fighting the compulsion to wipe it off.  
“I don’t like her. She comes to my house, she cries and leaves, next thing I know you’re gettin’ into fights with your _childhood friends_ , you’re in trouble at school,your face is all beat up…”  
“You can just say that this is about me liking girls, mom.”  
“It’s not that—”  
“But it _is_ that, mom. Well, tough shit. It’s how I am.”  
“Language,” William warned.  
“Chloe Price, I am your mother!”  
“Wish you weren’t.” Chloe mumbles, pushing past Joyce and storming out of the house. She needed to think. She went to her grandma’s house instead, where she was greeted with cookies and a sympathetic smile.

“You’re ungrounded.” Chloe’s dad said when he came to get her.  
“What?” Chloe almost couldn’t believe it.  
“Your mom and I, we had a talk. Anyway. you’re ungrounded. And she’s sorry for everything she said.”  
“Is she?”  
“Yes. She just wants what’s best for you. She thinks she can help you pick out a… girlfriend, like she helps you pick out clothes.”  
“She doesn’t help me pick out clothes.” Said Chloe, looking down at her outfit. Decidedly punk rock.  
“She used to.”  
Chloe shrugged.  
“She wants you to invite Max over for dinner.” William said.  
“Why, so she can make her feel weird and then we break up?”  
“No,” William replied, “so that we can get to know her. If she’s important to you, she’s important to us. Besides, she is kind of weird, isn’t she? Isn’t that why you like her?”  
  
Chloe was ungrounded. She couldn’t wait to tell Max.

**MAX**

So, she was going for dinner. Again. Somehow, impossibly, she had gotten herself back into this situation.   
  
Chloe’s dad put the leaf into the dining table, and Max sat right next to Chloe. Her heart was pounding the whole time, and she barely touched her food (which was probably a bad idea, considering she hadn’t had a good meal in at least two weeks now) but she was happy. Cautiously happy, at least. And they watched a movie together, Max sitting on the floor with Chloe with their backs resting on the sofa, and Max kind of weirdly felt like… everything was just right. Like she belonged there. Which was weird, because if you’d asked her five months ago if she’s ever belong anywhere she would have said no — yet here she was. Belonging. When Chloe surreptitiously took her hand, Max didn’t pull away. She could feel Chloe’s thumb tracing little circles on it, and then her eyes got all heavy and when she opened them again, the credits were rolling and she was leaning on Chloe’s shoulder like it was the most natural thing in the world. Their hands were still clasped together. Max bolted upright, and Chloe cast a sideways glance at he **r,** smiling. God. Max hoped she hadn’t been drooling.  

  
**CHLOE**

Max had a crease in her cheek from how she had slept against Chloe’s jacket. It can’t have been comfortable, but she had slept through most of the film. Chloe didn’t mind, and her parents barely noticed. She did get an eyebrow raise from Jennifer, though. 

When Max stood up to leave, William insisted that Chloe walk Max home.   
“Thank you for dinner, Mr and Mrs Price. It was lovely. I had a great time.” Max said. It didn’t even sound like she was being sarcastic.  
  
Max stepped onto the porch. Once the door had closed, Chloe saw her sag a little in relief. It was like all the air had been let out of her. Chloe wanted to hug her.   
“You can’t walk me home,” Max said, looking up at Chloe, “you know that right?”   
“At least let me walk you a little way.”  
“I don’t know…”   
“Nobody will see us. It’s dark.”  
“Okay,” she relented, but she put her hands in her pockets. They walked slowly together.  
“Your family is really great,” Max said, after a minute.   
“Hey, I want to show you something. Come with me.” Chloe grabbed her arm and pulled her down a darkened driveway, behind a pine tree.   
“Chloe, this is trespassing.”   
“It’s not. This is my grandparents’ house.”   
“Well, what is it?”   
“Nothing, I just want to be alone with you for a minute.”   
“Seriously? That is so lame, Chloe Price.”   
“I know.” Chloe turned to her. “Next time I’ll just say  _Max,_   _follow me down this dark alley, I want to kiss you_.”   
Max took a breath. She was surprised. Chloe was finally figuring her out — she knew just how to catch her off guard now.   
“I’ll say, hey Max, come hide behind these bushes with me, we need to make out like _right_ now.”   
Max didn’t move, so Chloe thought that touching her would be okay. Her face was soft, she was close enough to see most of her freckles even in the dark.   
“I’ll say Max, follow me down this rabbit hole…”   
Chloe put her thumb on Max’s lips, just to see if she’d move. She didn’t. They were so close now. Inches.   
Max pulled back at the last second, their lips almost touching.   
“I’ve never done this before.” she whispered.  
“S’okay.” Chloe said.   
“It’s not. This is gonna be terrible.”   
“It’s won’t be.”  
“You’ll regret it.”   
That made Chloe laugh, so she had to wait a second before she kissed Max.   
  
Max’s lips were soft and warm and Chloe could feel her shaking a little. Her nervousness steadied Chloe, it made her feel like she knew what she was doing, even though she’d only ever kissed Nathan before.  
  
Chloe pulled away before she wanted to, and Max looked up at her with flushed cheeks. Chloe’s grandparents had left their porch light on, and Max caught all of it in the right way.  
“Um…” said Chloe, somewhat sheepishly. Her confidence had evaporated. Max looked down.   
“Okay?” Chloe said. Max nodded.   
“Come here,” she said, “I want to show you something.” Max laughed. Chloe lifted her chin.   
The second kiss was even better. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Sorry for the wait. It's a very long chapter that I kept coming back to; I had to get it perfect. I added the fight, which I initially had omitted, and that took a long time. Also, it was their first kiss. I wanted to get it right.  
> I hope it was everything you'd hoped for! Sorry for any mistakes or fluency issues, some of this chapter is unbeta-d (mainly the middle sections). 
> 
> Until next time! ;)  
> Although I will say that next time might be a little while away... I am currently in the middle of my A-Level exams. Do not fear, I will finish this story, Just not as quickly as you might have hoped ;P

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! I'm like so totally stoked you made it this far. Anyways, I gotta motor. I'm, like, meeting up with this chick later, she's got a bitchin' Camaro that she's gonna take me out in. Oh, and I also have history homework. Like, gag me with a spoon.  
> Catch ya on the flip, dudettes.  
> -Vulpixels xoxo 
> 
> (Let me break character for a moment: the next chapters will be posted daily until I've run out of pre-written material. Then I'll be posting weekly or bi-weekly depending on my workload. Oh also, I'm bringing back the 80s slang. Try and stop me.)
> 
> As of today (02/11) I added links to all of the songs I've mentioned so you can listen to them after you finish reading if you want. Keep in mind that the link will take you away from the page, and right now I don't know how to get it to open in a new tab. If you can help with that, let me know :)


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